"His head suddenly exploded, drenching me with blood and pieces of skull as his lifeless torso slumped to the ground."
As the world's foremost beard-related musical act, we had always considered that our passion and loyalty toward beards were unmatched by any beard-based organisation in the world. However, this was before we'd come across a bearded alliance known as the Tactical Beard Owners Club.
Several months before we were due to set off on our first European tour, we received an email from TBOC, introducing themselves to us and inviting us to meet them while we were in Berlin. Of course, given our status amongst the world's beards, we are frequently invited to many beard-related gatherings, but this one intrigued us especially. As the email explained, the Tactical Beard Owners Club was basically an allegiance of bearded men, all with a military/security/police background, brought together by their passion for beards and their ability to kill another man if required.
The invitation was quite detailed – these guys were obviously serious about their beards.
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We were immediately impressed and terrified. Given that they had the ability to hunt us down and destroy us if we refused their hospitality, we agreed to a BBQ lunch on arrival in Berlin, which would in turn be attended by as many members of TBOC as were able. It was at this point that we received further correspondence from TBOC, outlining some “intel” that they had gathered ahead of our arrival. Their reconnaissance work was again impressively in-depth, covering such areas as first light and last light, details of the area surrounding the hotel, and anticipated wind speeds (presumably in case we needed to be extracted from the venue via helicopter).
These men were clearly highly-trained and highly-bearded. As the impending date for our luncheon approached, we began asking ourselves: Would our beards be good enough for them, and if not, would we make it out of there alive? Was it all a trap? Were these men actually completely insane? There was only one way to find out, and so it was with some trepidation that we ventured to TBOC's “compound” to find out what this club was all about.
To our relief, the club members were outstanding hosts and outstanding blokes. We were welcomed inside by our host Dan, an Aussie bloke with a nice neat red beard. He introduced us to several club members, including Chris, an American TBOC member from who had come in from Washington State, and Mike, the original founding member of TBOC. They explained that TBOC was an organization designed to bring together bearded men from different combat and tactical backgrounds, as a social club, support network, and most importantly as a way to uphold the sanctity of the beard.
We were feeling right at home – clearly these men shared our passion and commitment to the bearded way of life (except while we write songs, they shoot guns).
Before too long the beers and the barbequed meats were flowing freely, and The Beards and the Tactical Beard Owners Club were all getting along like a beard on fire, sharing our collective stories – everything from running late to soundcheck to organising high-level security detail in Kabul.
Just to keep the afternoon interesting, we decided to break out some weapons. As we suspected, these guys were packing some serious stuff – assault rifles, hand guns, a grenade launcher, a couple of axes – it was all here. But instead of feeling intimidated, we now felt safe – safe in the knowledge that if any shit went down, our new friends had our back.
To our great thrill, we were welcomed into the Tactical Beard Owners Club as honorary members. To be part of any bearded brotherhood is a great thing, but this was extra special – a worldwide bearded alliance committed to serving their country, themselves, and most importantly, their beards. We were deeply honoured to be part of such club.
After rounding out the afternoon with a couple of bull's horns filled with mead (Dan told us he had shot, killed and eaten the bull earlier that morning), we made our way to the Frannz Club for our Berlin show. Our beard-related anthems took on an extra edge that night was we were cheered along by the various TBOC members in the audience. Post-gig, we gathered in the bar for a couple of quiet beers, and all agreed that no matter what, nothing was more important than having a beard.
Although our thoroughly enjoyable day was drawing to a close, one more incident warrants mentioning: As Nathaniel Beard and I left the Frannz Club to return to our quarters, a couple of beardless skinhead types were walking past. Taking exception to our bearded faces, they turned to us and started making threatening gestures and speaking angry-sounding German at us. One of them grabbed my shirt and looked ready to strike me down, but before I could react, his head suddenly exploded, drenching me with blood and pieces of skull as his lifeless torso slumped to the ground.
Shocked, I looked around and spotted a bearded man perched on an adjacent rooftop holding what looked like a heavy-duty sniper rifle. As we watched, he stood, gave us a knowing nod, and disappeared into the night.