PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING: Ok, I noticed the times don't really match up in this story. Paula and 2-D's break up was at least 10-15 years before Wobble St. That means any baby that could've been produced would be at least 10, maybe even 15. If 2-D were to have any new baby, it would probably be from one of the random girls he went out and, you know, impregnated. But I can't rewrite the whole story. Paula was just the first girlfriend that came to mind. So like..pretend the break up happened later or something. Or maybe they got back together for a one night stand. Use your imagination. Thanks and enjoy.

The day got even more painfully dull as it dragged on. All the shutters had been pulled down and the rain was making a racket on the rooftop. The TV was playing an endless loop of static and not a word was spoken throughout the building. The apartment was a perfectly serene scene with only the thundering outside to be heard. Russell Hobbs and Noodle sat in their respective rooms entertaining themselves with whatever they could find in the horrible mess where the floor should be. It was certain nobody was going to want to clean it up, and there was absolutely no way they would ever be able to afford a house cleaner. Murdoc Niccals lay on the kitchen counter, quickly chugging down his 2nd bottle of scotch. That man needed some professional help. And then there was Stuart-Stuart Pot, or 2-D as he preferred to be called, lay on the couch with one leg propped up on the arm. He watched the static on the TV screen as if it was the most intriguing show to ever grace his eyes. It seemed as if nothing in the world could interrupt the perfect silence in the buildi-

Wait.

What was that?

A loud ringing could be heard in every room, a sound that was rarely ever heard in the building. It was the doorbell. But who would need them in the middle of the afternoon on a wildly stormy day? Somebody needed to get the door and go see what this person needed. 2-D, seeing as Murdoc was too drunk to walk and Noodle and Russell probably wanted to rest, decided that somebody would be him. Stretching his hands up to the ceiling, 2-D stood up and made his way over to the door. Placing his lanky fingers around the doorknob, he turned it. As soon as the door was opened, he could see a black car speeding away.

"Ey, wait wait wait wait wait!" 2-D called hopelessly after the car, but it was far too late. Sighing, he looked down at the ground and noticed something strange. The person in the black car had left a slightly curved basket with a blanket over it on the porch. Attached was a note addressed to "Stu-Pot". 2-D cocked his head, and picked up the basket. He went back inside and closed the door. He took the note out of it's envelope and began to read it to himself:

Dearest Stu:

I should say I'm sorry for not telling you about this. I should say I'm sorry for leaving you so soon. But you know what? I'm really not sorry. I kept this a secret so that I wouldn't have to stay. I found someone better than you. I guess I can thank you for that last part though. But what's in this basket is not my problem. So I'm making it yours. Good luck. You'll need it.

Love, Paula

2-D crumpled up the note and dropped it to the floor, stamping on it once for good measure. He lifted a corner of the blanket to reveal what looked like a toe. He quickly let go, letting out a small shriek. Once he regained enough courage, 2-D threw the entire blanket off. Sitting in the basket was a chubby, drooling baby boy. He had tiny tufts of blue hair and dark eyes. 2-D smiled for a moment at the sight of his son.

"I'm a father!" He whispered to himself. But his smile quickly turned to a look of anxiety.

"Wait...a baby? How am I suppos' to take care of a baby? I'll have to get em' formula, an' diapers, an' teach em' to talk, an' an'...oh nooo I can't be a dad ye-het!" 2-D rambled to himself, running his fingers through his hair. Interrupting his thoughts, the smell of alcohol wafted into his nose as an intoxicated Murdoc stood over him and his baby.

"Wudduya got there in tha basket 3-D?" slurred Murdoc. "You can't have em'!" 2-D exclaimed snatching up the infant.

"Naw, I wasn't lookin to steal the flesh bag. I jus-I jus needed to tell ya that it's not easy. An I experienced a pretty...fucked up upbringing if ya ask me."

2-D stood in silence, blinking every so often.

"Look-" Murdoc paused to take another swig of scotch. "I jus gotta tell ya...you're on your own 24-D. But you at least gotta name the damn thing before you start teachin it how to shit and speak." Murdoc promptly passed out and dropped to the ground.

"T-thanks. Murdoc." 2-D stammered glancing down at the baby in his arms.

"You're gonna be Shane. I betcha Lynch would appreciate that."

Cradling Shane Pot, 2-D began to softly sing the whimpering child to sleep.

"Up on Melancholy Hill, there's a plastic tree. Are you here with me? Just looking out on the day, of another dream..."