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BEGINNING AUTHOR NOTE!!!!

lol forgot to add a title at first.

Finally, I am posting a story that I am, somewhat proud of! But before you get to read and pass judgement on my brainchild, please remember that most bands and names are copyright to their respective owners. Matt Flynn is mine, and most badly named characters and bands are mine, but feel free to use them, just tell me please. This chapter doesn't contain much gore, as it's more of a backstory to the main plot, but later chapters will overflow with gratuitous violence. Now I beg of ye, enjoy chapter one of Top of The Food Chain!

"And that's all for tonight ladies and gentlemen, stay tuned for Matt Flynn with your metal nightcap."

The middle aged panther removed the headset from his ears and, with a signal that he was off air, made his way out of the booth.

Upon his exit from the small room, he bumped into a slightly taller German Sheppard.

"Good show today Rick, gonna be a tough act to follow." The Shepherd said.

"You'll do fine Matt, the boss ain't gonna fire you just cuz my listeners are actually awake." The panther replied, while getting a cup of coffee from the nearby pot.

"That's what you think, you never know when that crotchety old pig's gonna decide that the night slot needs a new voice."

"At least you would be able to go back to a natural sleep schedule."

"Meh, I'm up most nights anyway, people online won't kill themselves."

"Either way, have a good night." With this the panther set off toward the parking bay doors.

Matt skipped the coffee, opting for an energy drink instead, and settled himself in the office chair, and surrounded by the clutter of radio equipment, began the opening promo his broadcast.

"I'm waiting, in my cold cell, when...the all consuming fire burns...always, this fire burns...into the night strapped to a rocket ignited...from my endless sacrifice..." The combination of various metal songs qued in to Matt's first line.

"Ladies and gentlemen good evening, I'm Matt Flynn and I'll be your host for tonight's metal nightcap. Your opening tonight contained music from Machine Head, War of Ages, Killswitch Engage, Dethklok, and Dream Theater. You'll hear that and much more during the rest of tonight's show, along with our special guest, the baron of breakdowns, Rob Tournee, of Columbian Necktie. However, in accordance with the peeps who keep this radio station funded, I must play these ads to convince all your pliable minds to buy their crap! We'll be back in exactly two minutes, or more if I get hungry." With that, Matt hit the switch for the first set of pre-recorded advertisements, and began double checking the playlist for the night.

A little later, Matt pulled his chair back to the mike and flicked off the commercial switch, "Well don't we have a treat, first up tonight is a hit from those underage shredders, Black Tide, this is 'Shockwave,'" Matt allowed the opening feedback to drown out his last words as a knock came from the door.

Sliding the chair to the door, Matt opened it to find a disturbingly tall dragon staring down at him. Matt marveled at how anything could grow to such massive proportions.

"Mr. Flynn I presume?" The dragon asked in a deep, somewhat raspy voice.

"Yes sir and you would be Mr. Tournee?" Matt replied, his own deep voice sounding high and childish in comparison.

"Indeed I am, you were expecting me, where you not?"

"Yes, yes I was, please come in and have a seat, we should be going live again in just a minute." With that, Matt wheeled himself back to the desk and began setting up the guest mic and gathering interview notes.

When Black Tide's final solo faded out, Matt flipped the feed back to live and invited Mr. Tournee to the seat next to him. "Ladies and gentleman, here he is, the baron of breakdowns, the sultan of shred, and the lead guitarist of Columbian Necktie, Robb Tournee!" With that, Matt pressed a button that played a piece from one of the bands new songs, "Blood Soaked Eulogy".

"Thank you Mr. Flynn, and please call me Robb."

"Very well, and do please call me Matt, Mr. Flynn was my granddad. Now to begin this interview, your band has a new album coming up, what's up with it?"

"Well, it's called Funeral for a Feral, and it's one of those records almost every band does these days. You know the one that tries to tell a story with all the songs? The song you just played is called "Blood Soaked Eulogy" and it's actually the first song on the album...don't bother asking why it's first, Barry Nickolai, the lead singer handled all the final production with the folks at Deathblow Records. Though I can say that most of the songs contain a healthy mix of brutal breakdown and quickstepping riffs."

"Only most?"

"We did try one symphonic piece, very Symphony X, almost like Kamelot. But enough about the album, how have you been Matt, still in that band, what was it Brainspatter? Also, how the heck did you come up with that name?"

"Whoa watch out folks, we got a little turn around here, will I answer the question, will I explain the origin of Brainspatter? You'll find out after these messages."

"Got dandruff? Got it everywhere? Then you need Snow-B-Gone! From the makers of Stain Swipper! Remember, its ruff on dandruff, not on you."

"MONDAY MONDAY MONDAY! SEE BIG BAD EDDIE BEAR AT THE MEGARENA IN MONSTER TRUCK MAYHEM!!! SEE BBEB IN THE BEAR CLAW TAKE ON THE LARGEST PILE OF CARS IN THE TRISTATE AREA! MONDAY! DOORS OPEN AT 5 AND THE SHOW STARTS AT 7!!! MONDAY!!!!"

"Can't sleep at night? Do you stay up all night listening to the radio for help? Has the Dee Jay recently switched to a commercial conveniently highlighting your problem? Comatosium could be the solution to your problem. Ask your doctor today, it's not like you're sleeping right now anyway. Caution, do not take Comatosium if you are nursing, pregnant, may become pregnant, are a man, operate large machinery, operate any machinery, are alive, or have ever been alive."

After the final pitch ended, Matt flipped the switch back to live feed and welcomed the listeners back.

"Well ladies and germs, I decided to allow this crazy criss cross. Now I pass the mic to Robb to begin the interview, Robb?"

"Thank you Matt, to start, how did you come up with the name Brainspatter?"

"Well Robb, just so the audience knows, I am reclining in my chair, a far of look of nostalgia etched on my handsome, still single, face. But seriously, the name came from a while ago, back round 2003, when some friends and I were enjoying a good game of GTA 3. We were chillin, cheatin, we really did not care about the actual story. Anyway, I blew some dudes head off and one of my buddies, Bruce Rondell, said 'if the graphics were better, I bet there would be more than just a blood fountain.' To which I replied 'Yeah, like brain matter, there would be like Brainspatter all over the sidewalk.' We didn't exactly talk well when drunk. Than Darrell Howell, another friend, said, 'Dude that sounds like a totally metal band name.' And thus Brainspatter was formed. Now Robb I need to stop you there, as it's time for more music, usic, sic, ic, c. God I love the echo button! This next song is a long one, mostly because I nap while you listen to whatever I play. This is "Honor Thy Father" by Dream Theater." Matt once again allowed the intro to the song to drown out his voice.

"Why did we need to stop? I thought it was going well." Robb asked, sounding slightly puzzled.

Matt beckoned the dragon to follow him, as he left the broadcasting booth, and walked to the breakroom.

"It is going well, I just get bitched out by the boss man if I spend all night talking with the guest. No worry we'll finish up after the song. May I offer you a refreshing Monster, or perhaps a fine Amp? I believe it's a good 2009."

"Indeed my good sir!" Robb took the can and cracked the top, taking a sniff of the aroma, "Hmm good body, strong scent, and a very fine drink to be sure!"

"Good thing we aren't live again, or we would have viewers thinking I treat guests to private wine tastings, and they may or may not have heard your description and now think that we are hitting on each other."

"Oh, if that's all, though I must say, you're a little to male for me to be hitting on."

"Same to you my good sir."

They returned back to the booth, where Robb quickly stole the main seat, leaving Matt with the guest chair.

"Hey, who's interviewing who here?" Robb asked, answering the puzzled look on Matt's face, before flipping the live feed switch.

"Hello, and welcome back. I'm Robb Tournee, here with Matt Flynn. Now Matt, we know how the name came to be, but how is Brainspatter today?"

"Not nearly as good as Columbian Necktie, I can assure you that. We actually broke up a while ago, not for any reason in particular, just some trouble that sent me overseas."

"Trouble and overseas, sounds military."

"Yeah, repeated underage drinking offensives, so the judge figures 'send him to a dry country.' Well I went to that country, and got an AK-47 bullet in the calf for all my trouble. Got home, got physically rehabilitated, got discharged, honorably, and by then, we had all gone our separate ways. We still keep in contact, but none of us really have an interest in reforming, too much time past and such."

"Ah that explains quite a bit, though I must ask, before the end of the interview, is that the guitar you used in Brainspatter on the stand in the corner?"

"Actually, I used on of Darrell's B.C. Riches, couldn't afford one myself. That is the guitar I first bought, learned on, and play to this day. Thing used to be a POS but most of the money I made in the band went to fixing it up, which goes to show how little we made. Truth be told, I think we were all just in Brainspatter for fun, you know, not really caring about money and just living."

"Well thank you for all that Mr. Flynn, unfortunately we must continue the music, and I must head back to the tour bus, thanks for having me here Matt."

"The pleasure was all mine Robb, feel free to stop by anytime. Ladies and gentlemen that was Robb Tournee, of Columbian Necktie. I just want to wish you all a good night before I start tonight's playlist, and head home to begin the destruction of all you noobs dumb enough to challenge me online. If you have any questions, or would like to know the name of a song that plays, feel free to e-mail me. Just include the time you heard the song around, and any lyrics you could understand. I'm Matt Flynn, goodnight and have a great tomorrow."

With that, Matt flipped the switch to the preset playlist for the night, and began making his way to the parking lot. However, as he passed the station managers office, he was called inside. Matt entered, and took a seat across from the overweight pig who signed his paychecks. Matt knew something was up, the boss only wanted to talk to him if he was reprimanding him, or showing off the impressive ratings of the day time hosts, in comparison to Matt's ratings.

"And where did you think you were going Mr. Flynn?"

"Umm, home?"

"That would be incorrect, as your slot has suffered consistent low ratings, I've decided that you will now stay on all night, in an attempt to boost the ratings back up, and actually pull some productivity out of that jumble of noise you call music." With that, the pig leaned back in his chair and eyed Robb, as if daring him to argue.

Inside, Robb was fuming with anger. He knew it was solely the dislike the two shared for each other that was forcing him to give up his night of hanging at a local bar, and then playing video games until dawn.

"Okay, sir, but I feel I must correct your inaccuracies. You see, the 'noise' you were referring to is actually a complex set up of rapid bass, on the bass guitar and drums, lightning quick drum sets, vocals that take most people years to master, and intricate guitar work, that included multiple types of harmonies and picking techniques. All put together, these create a genre of music known as metal, a genre that will never force today's fashion and ideas down your throat, therefore marking its superiority to the same five to ten songs that you loop all day long, with the exception of news breaks with the latest celebrity gossip, until Rick gets here and provides some relief with classic rock!"

"Well Mr. Flynn, it appears you are unhappy with your current job? Perhaps you would like an opportunity to start a new career? Perhaps waste more taxpayer dollars, than you and the army in general have wasted already, and attempt to go through college? I think that's exactly what you want. In fact, since I'm in a good mood, I'll even let you continue to broadcast until I find a replacement. Shouldn't take too long I'm sure, in fact, with any luck, you'll be gone by next week! Oh won't you be happy with a new lease on life!"

Matt was speechless, and it wasn't the firing. He had been expecting the boss to fire him at any time. What rendered the shepherd speechless was the boss' blatant insult to the military, and the effort to stop terrorism.

AUTHOR BREAK!!!!

-Damn straight! It's an author break! FYI I may not support the war 100%, but I still respect and thank all the men and women who put their lives on the line to keep me safe. Sappy tribute aside, it's time to get back to the story. Also, do you hate the boss? Because I tried to make him as unlikeable as possible...I just couldn't work him kicking children into the story to cement him in as a total douche.-

END OF AUTHOR BREAK!!!!

Matt stood up, repressing the urge to knock the pig on his ass for the comments he had made, and began to leave the office. Just before he left, he turned and said to the porker behind the desk.

"I may not be the most popular guy on air, but you may find some backlash from employees, because I am one of the most popular guys here. Expect my last week of broadcasting to be some of the highest rated broadcasts you've ever seen." With that Matt walked out the door.

"Oh," Matt added, poking his head back in, "If you dare to insult the military that I faithfully served, or call anything they do for their veterans a 'waste of taxpayer dollars' ever again, I'll personally make sure you become the most hated person in the tri-state area."

With that said, Matt walked back to the booth, and flipped the live switch, cutting a Nickleback song off mid sentence. Matt observed the rest of the playlist for the night, and discovered that the boss had been filling it with "radio friendly" rock. The playlist was filled with Hinder, Nickleback , and just about anything else a teenage couple would listen to while smoking, or drinking, or whatever they felt like doing at the time.

Matt thought to himself, "How did he do that, when I checked the playlist when I first arrived?"

"Well ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that this will be one of the last broadcasts featuring me, Matt Flynn. The station boss and I have had...Ideological differences, which have resulted in the termination of my contract. However, I still have a week or two left, so I promise to make them the best weeks of radio you have ever heard. That's right, call in, request music, ask me questions, hear uncensored music, learn how to two step and throwdown, and just have a good time! Now it has just come to my knowledge that someone had been switching the playlists after I left. And that's a *bleep* move. I think we have some catching up to do. Feel free to call me as I play a personal favorite, this is "Hammer Smashed Face" by Cannibal Corpse."

With that said, Matt began making a playlist composed of some of his favorite metal, the pop rock bands were cast out and replaced with bands like Slipknot, Dream Theater, Whitechapel, Suicide Silence, Devildriver, and many others. He then got another drink from the fridge, figuring he didn't need to worry about getting in trouble for abusing the stations kindness, and returned to the booth to find multiple lights blinking on the phone.

Matt picked up the phone and asked, "You got Matt Flynn, and how may I help you rock harder?"

---

Early the next morning, around 5 AM, Matt departed with a nod to the arriving employees, and made his way to his car. There, under the fluorescent lighting of the parking garage, sat his 1979 Trans Am Firebird. The car was an impressive sight, and one may wonder how he got it. Let's just say it was a gift from the military and leave it at that...

Matt started up the Firebird and listened to the roar of the 400 CID V8 engine. He then shifted the car into first and pulled out of the garage.

-Another author note!!!!OMG!-

Yes in car illiterate, so I took one of my favorite cars, put it in Google, and picked the biggest engine...originally I was going to have him drive a crap car, but the Firebird helps lead in to a twist later on.

-OMG END OF AUTHOR NOTE!-

Matt finally arrived back at his apartment complex around 5:30 AM, parked the Firebird, and made his way inside. His apartment was a rather sparsely decorated "bachelor pad". The only rooms that ever saw activity were the living room, kitchen and bathroom. Matt had decided to opt for a pull out couch in favor of a more expensive bed and mattress. The couch currently stood along the dividing, half wall between the living room and kitchen. On the other side of the wall, a sink of dirty dishes stood waiting for a washing that Matt was in no hurry to deliver, and a refrigerator stood in the corner, currently stocked with the dregs of many Chinese take-out meals. Opposite the couch stood Matt's pride and joy, a big screen TV with surround sound, the last byproduct of the money he had earned playing local shows with Brainspatter.

Now Matt was a fair chef, he just lacked the motivation to go out and buy stuff to prepare at home. Yet a nice set of knives stood, ready for use, next to the four burner stove.

Matt walked to the fridge, and removed a paper box of the, ever popular, General Tso's Chicken, and tossed it in the microwave. As he waited for the leftovers to heat, he went to the living room and turned on the TV, mostly for background noise. He then woke his computer up and began surfing the web for any new or interesting news. The news pages were clogged with the usual stories.

-Matt's thoughts will appear in ()-

-Alabama wins BCS (at least it's still in the SEC, maybe next year Florida...)

-Asian teens exhibit violent and unpredictable behavior as result of potential vaccine (that's somewhat unnerving)

-Young man beat at local bar by friend with pool cue (That's disturbingly funny)

-Modern Warfare 2 continues to kick ass in all markets (Duh)

-Microwaved Chinese food tends to taste like reheated foot (Amen)

-Research shows that proper diet and exercise are key to a healthy lifestyle (These headlines are starting to suck)

-Like yo mama (What the hell?!)

Any further surfing was disrupted by the chiming of the microwave, signaling the readiness of the chicken...

The next three days passed in much the same way. By some twist of luck, many people wanted Matt to stay on air as long as possible, so interviews for the night slot were few. The young man who was beat with a pool cue was treated and released. And Matt continued to piss off the manage by producing remarkable ratings with his new format, which included on air lessons on how to play guitar, and how to dance to hardcore music.

The fourth day after Matt learned of his imminent firing began like any other. The cell phone near his head began blasting the chorus of "Endless Sacrifice", to rouse Matt at an early 1 PM. After resisting the urge to see how far he could throw the phone, Matt got up from the sofa bed, and made his way to the bathroom to begin his "morning" rituals.

Later Matt sat back down on the sofa and began flipping through channels.

"Authorities are advising that everyone...GET TO THE CHOPPA NOW!...zombie nation...it's the end of the world as we know it...avoid contact with the infected...not airborne...damage the brain... Hell is overflowing, and Satan is sending his dead to us. Why? Because, you have sex out of wedlock, you kill unborn children; you have man on man relations, same sex marriage. How do you think your God will judge you? Well friends, now we know. When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth....evacuations are currently..."

Matt shut off the TV and sat in stunned silence. For the first few minutes he thought it was no more than an elaborate prank. However, the smoke rising from the city view outside his window did little to boost his hope. Suddenly, a knock came from the door.

Matt cautiously crept over to the door and looked through the peephole. To his relief, it was just the landlord, looking slightly ruffled. Matt opened the door with a welcome smile and greeted the aging goat.

"Good afternoon Mr. Specoli, how may I help you today?"

"Don't know what's good about today, I'm just going around and giving all the attendants a list of the evacuation sites."

Matt was stunned once again as the evidence began to pile up.

"Evacuation sites?"

"Don't you want to leave, or would you rather have a zombie gnaw your tuckus for dinner?"

"So I'm not dreaming than. Well I must say that this sucks, and now I'm going to freak out for a little bit."

"Well here's a list of the eva-gah!" Mr. Specoli screamed as a middle aged rabbit appeared and bit into his neck.

Matt could only watch, in horrified silence as his landlord was taken down. In that moment, Matt's mind began taking in the details of the attack.

The rabbit was in his mid to late twenties, pure white, with a large amount of blood staining his fur. One ear was missing and two fingers on his right hand were little more than bone. His teeth were currently sunk into the neck of Mr. Specoli, drawing a fountain of blood from the old goat. However, what horrified Matt the most was the look in the rabbit's eyes. A sea of boiling rage currently blazed in the, slightly glazed, eyes of the rabbit.

All Matt could do is let out a horrified gasp, and begin to move backwards. However, this seemed to attract the horror in the doorway, who left the feebly twitching goat, for Matt. As the rabbit began to advance on Matt, he could only think of one thing. His military combat training.

Matt turned and leapt through the dividing wall, landing and rolling off the counter, as the beast lunged for him. He quickly began to search for something to defend himself with as the zombie began to crawl over the wall.

In his slight panic, Matt's hand landed on a metal handle. With no thought, as to what he was holding, Matt brought the object over his head, and at the zombie's. Luckily, Matt had stumbled upon a cast iron skillet, and a resounding crack filled the room, as cast iron met flesh and bone.

Matt, wasn't done though. If he had learned one thing from the movies, it was to destroy the head. He quickly stepped forward and delivered another crack to the zombie's head, splitting it with a sound like a watermelon being dropped from a high window. The zombie promptly collapsed and began spilling it's brains on Matt's kitchen floor.

"Well," Matt thought to himself, once he stopped shaking, "I guess I better get going.

With that, Matt stepped around the rabbit, and began to pack anything of use into an old army duffle bag.

AUTHOR END NOTE!!!!!

That's all so far. Please criticise me but keep in mind that this is my first story. There was another story, but it was one of thoes kill it with fire moments, so i kinda blanked it out. If you have questions, or just want to throw ideas my way for future chapters, send me a PM or find me on Xbox live under H HAMM3R

That's all for now!

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PS Yes i have been redone this about 5 times since i posted it 15 minutes ago, but i keep finding crap wrong with it. So now i'm just gonna let it go, and hope that the differences in font sizes don't f with your brain to much.