Wha are Yiz?
Mick McManix is a former Black Flag roadie who subsequently found solace in the Voluminous Bosom of Holy Mother Church, specifically in the fanatical crimson-robed ranks of The Spanish Inquisition. He has given up shifting ropey Marshall amps in favour of pumping bullets into heretical zombies and reviving the spiritually weak and physically dead of Malton. He works mainly in the parish of St John's, comprising northern Vinetown, southern Pegton, and neighbouring areas.
Birth o' a Legend
|GTFO. He won't tell you again.|
Despite his broad Pegtonian accent, Mick McManix is believed to have been born in Roftwood, and is allegedly of Irish-Mongolian parentage, which would account for his wild mood swings between misty-eyed romanticism and a maniacal desire to spill zombie blood. He often pines for the bogs, steppes and even the fjords sometimes, although he has never seen them, as his formative years were spent in Pegton, "tha pure deid brilliant suburb tha cannae speak its name". As a result, McManix considers himself Pegtonian. An if ye dinnae like it ye can aw get tae feck.
Tha Early Years
|Mick McManix is a Bhoy. Hail hail!|
While still a wee bairn, McManix "ran awa tae see tha sights o Malton" but only got as far as St John's Cathedral in Vinetown, to the south of Pegton. The sight of this religious edifice evidently struck a deep spiritual chord in the young McManix breast, as he would later abandon a hedonistic lifestyle in favour of fanatical devotion to the Papacy.
On Tour wi yon Black Flag
|Mick McManix believes coffee is the NECTAR OF THE GODS.|
During Black Flag's notorious tour of Malton, proto-punk and black coffee-addict McManix found meaning in life through wearing the scruffy black uniform of a roadie, and bore his sign of office with pride (a massive bunch of keys hanging from his ripped black jeans).
During these years he learnt a great deal about Malton's darkest, foulest corners and its dimmest inhabitants (viz. the Ridleybank Resistance Front), most of whom are now zombies. McManix also picked up numerous infections and some colourful language during the tour - experience and knowledge which has proven handy since the outbreak.
Black Flag frontman Henry Rollins went on to fight the scourge of unthinking, consumerist humanity with his band and the Spoken Word; McManix considers TSI to be a band of crimson-clad brothers, and also uses Tha Spoaken Waird to spread his message of Revivalism and Torture to survivors and zombies respectively.
Th'Inquisition - Amen!
McManix abruptly abandoned Black Flag and the sweaty scene of Roadieism after seeing a vision of a Comfy Chair borne aloft by flaming zombies. This vision hovered above St John's Cathedral and McManix followed it there, to find the once-glorious place of worship unhallowed by the presence of filthy, stinking undead hereticks eating believers' brains. McManix immediately took up his Axe of Intolerance and his Syringe of Life, and swore never to rest until the heretickal scourge of Zombiegensianism had been eradicated from Vinetown and other fair suburbs of Malton. Despite this solemn vow, he has also been known to rest after heavy meals and other times when a nap is in order.
|Mick McManix is a broadcaster|
As a cardinal of TSI, McManix is known for his Sunday sermons on Radio KTSI (26.34MHz); his devotion to St John's, Mitchem Mall and Club Izzard - reflecting the dichotomy of rampant consumerism and spirituality that has marked his life; and above all, his appalling personal hygiene and foul mouth. Feck! Amen!
|Cake or Death?|
|Mick has been known to visit the latest show at Club Izzard [86,64]|
He also loathes the puerile antics of the Clean Air Reclamators, "a bunch o numpty wee plums whase banter is utter mince".
|Full of Crap|
|Mick McManix thinks that Clean Air Reclamators are full of crap.|
|Mick recognizes the difference between a Newbie and a Noob.|
|This user goes on holiday|
in ruined suburbs.
|Mick the Preacher Man like to make sexy time with the ladies. High Five!|