Black is the gargantuan super-fascist of the band; the dictatorial captain of this crazy ship called The Contortionists. He fires his bandmates with alarming regularity. He enjoys tearing other people to shreds with his razor-sharp wit and clearly superior taste and judgement. And he looks like a girl and drinks weak tea with his pinky extended.
Black�s favourite thing in the world to do is to drink large amounts of cider or Absinthe and then grievously embarrass himself in front of policemen or his fellow band mates. No one has ever actually seen Black naked but it is presumed that he�s either a closet hermaphrodite or he�s some kind of sexless wonder that pisses through his bellybutton or something. That or some bunch of nihilists must�ve cut off his johnson.
He has no real friends on account of his being fundamentally unlikeable.
Personal life philosophy: �You�re out of the band, both of you��
Dan likes to drink hard, play hard, work hard, and fuck hard. Apart from the very first statement, the former sentence is an utterly shameless lie. And that speaks volumes about the intoxicated lout that is Dan Pryor.
After a freak strawberry-picking accident at a very early age, as part of his body�s process of gradual rehabilitation, Dan learnt to play the drums with his teeth, winning several prestigious drumming accolades by doing so; the agony of both the accident itself, and the subsequent hours spent slaving away with a pair of drumsticks between his lips had ultimately been worth it.
Black moved Dan onto bass immediately, claiming that it was a shrewd means of testing his commitment to the band. Dan may easily forget, but he doesn�t forgive.
Despite his quite bewildering penchant for the dodgy AM radio charm of The fucking Eagles, Dan is quite difficult to dislike; many have tried, most have failed. The very few that have succeeded are obvious nitwits anyway, people that drink Fosters Ice or are milkmen for instance.
Dan�s secret dream is to eradicate all Fosters Ice drinkers and milk deliverers from the planet.
Personal life philosophy: �If I can�t fucking drink it, I don�t wanna fucking hear about it.�
�Wildcat� Willett is the auburn-haired love goddess at the centre of it all. She sings like an angel, but at the same time has a mouth like a goddamned sewer. Her record-breakingly huge hardcore pornography addiction compromises her capacity to get together with the rest of the band somewhat; Black and Dan have tried many a time to compensate for this by having sex in front of Jenny while they rehearse, but this seemed to impose a heavy-duty psychological breakdown on her part, which was practically the last thing everyone involved wanted. That�s what happens when you fuck a near-stranger in the ass.
She has since recovered almost to full cognitive capabilities and prefers to hang onto sanity by constantly recalling her former glory days when she appeared in Kerrang! Magazine, back when it wasn�t a nu-metal version of Smash Hits.
She was the one in the black skirt.
Personal life philosophy: �Can it fuckface, I�m watching porn here��
Joe is the teen heartthrob poster boy of the band. He's the kind of young man you'd happily take home to meet your family, who your mother would just love, and who your secretly gay kid brother would want to fist. Despite the fact that no one likes this band at all, Joe already has his own fanclub called "Wise Up!" which is doing much better than the group ever will.
Unlike Black, Joe can actually play the guitar, and is partial to taunting his bandmate with note-perfect Hendrix solos played behind his head, with his eyes closed, with one hand, and while being fellated.
Joe thinks the band should be looking to go in more of an acid-jazz slob-rock direction; fortunately, his being outnumbered means his fellow Contortionists can easily beat that out of him whenever necessary. And sometimes when it isn't.
The truth of the matter however, is that Joe's only in this band because the other members keep him drugged out of his face and tied up in their basement between rehearsals. But keep it under your hat, okay? He hasn't noticed yet.
Personal life philosophy: "Sometimes I wonder why I ever joined this band... Hang on a minute..."
