Banana Peels
Author's Note: Holy Gravy, where have I been? Well...college crap and so forth. Yeah, so what I'm planning to do here is a collection of ...not exactly one shots...(or you could, but they're a bit shorter than my infamous long ones) but more of "pieces" that could be one shots if I ever planned them to be more than this, which is what I'm most likely not doing, and why they're going here. I don't wanna waste my thoughts or creations, and no worries, Crashed is not forgotten. So enjoy these random stories that are not linked by chapters whatsoever. Each one will be its own fable. Thank you.
Of Girlies and Men
Bits of sunshine were poking through the fat, bulbous clouds surrounding the air of Kong Studios, a slight wind wisping around the bit of chill Spring usually bore in its months. Down below, to the left of the landfill that didn't smell so much because of the winds, and in an area where tombstones and mausoleums didn't dominate the land, the four famous misfits of the world stood, bearing warlike faces at each other, a piece of pigskin separating two of the four while the other two tried to block each other. But the question wasn't when to throw the ball, it was HOW Murdoc was going to get the ball over the gigantic mountain of man in front of him.
Dressed in a mere pair of khaki shorts and brown steel toed boots...and, of course, his signature chain, it was strange to see Murdoc wearing shorts out of all the possible choices he had (which was jeans...dirty jeans...or underwear), but it was better than nothing (which he would have no problem pulling off, either). Wiping the sweat gathering along his sideburns by his right ear with his shoulder, the bassist sniffed and whipped his arm as hard as he could, veins pulsing in his neck, "Dullard, yeh better catch 'is one!" At the word, the tall singer tugged at the front of his orange "pretty zombie" tee in effort to ventilate and scanned the skies, praying he would catch it this time before the preteen tornado of doom decided it was time to take him for a spin down the tunnel of unconsciousness.
Head bobbing between the sky and the girl, 2D began to run back a little, starting the guitarist on her starter up dash, ready to pound him to the ground. "Go, girl!" the giant boomed, throwing a thick armed point at her, a definite cue to do whatever it took to keep the thin man from making contact with the angular ball, but this slightly threw Noodle off a few seconds, allowing the black orbs to identify the ball and grin happily, arms flailing in effort to snatch it from the air. His long legs bounded a couple more feet and before the sun could shimmer in his eyes, the blue haired god's bony fingers curved around the football before he could get whacked in the face like it had done three downs ago. Pausing in amazement and joy, the singer squeaked happily, hugging the ball to his frail chest, about to take off, "I caught it! I cought it, Murdoc! I didn't drop it 'is time!" he gloated, immediately receiving a kidney shot by the karate junior and falling to his demise.
Smacking a dirty, sweaty hand against his cheek, Murdoc rolled his eyes and grunted angrily. "Dullard, yeh soddin' pansy! The bloody wind blows an' yeh tip over!" he barked, glaring at Russel who was fanning himself with his yellow cap, "Maybe we should take a break, Muds...we been at it all day." Arching a brow, the bassist trudged over to where the others were, "We've been at it for less 'an a half hour an' yeh been out o' breath since before we started. Stop eatin' so much o' our damn food an' maybe yeh'll lose a roll." he snapped, ruffling his own hair from sweat. Wiping his forehead, Russel yawned, "When you stop drinkin' an' lose that beer gut."
Over on the floor, 2D still had the pigskin clutched underneath him, unbelieving that he had been brought down in his star moment, by a twelve year old, no less. Dusting her messy self off, the preteen grinned, adjusting her black pigtails, "Gomen ne, 2D-kun, but you cannot out run me." Pouting while slowly lifting himself, the singer grumbled, twirling the ball in his hands, "Didn't even get a chance teh run..." Snatching the ball from 2D, Murdoc tossed it to Russel, "Yo' offense. Dullard, get yo' sorry arse up...gettin' tackled by a lit'tle girl, yeh should be a-fuckin-shamed o' yo'self." he muttered, placing himself before Russel to crouch. Noodle ignored these comments as always, since they really weren't aimed at her and mainly at 2D. Not that she enjoyed when 2D was insulted, but he seemed to take it pretty well considering it was a harsh truth. The singer wasn't very good at football or brutality.
Off went the ball from Russel, spinning around as a perfect bullet towards the axe princess, she, darting for it as soon as it had left the drummer's hand. Her hands extended out for it, smiling eagerly before the singer's fingers tapped it, flicking the ball off the intended target. Not willing to have an interception, Noodle threw herself to the side, catching the ball, but tripping over a piece of broken tombstone on her way. She stumbled a bit while the keyboardist merely stared with his head tilted, giving a nervous back glance at Murdoc, unsure what to do. He slightly leaned forward, but pulled himself back in fear, cowering away when she finally gained her right balance and shot off, all taking place in a matter of seconds. The girl ran passed a rusty bucket of nails and bolts Murdoc had brought out to marker off the touchdown zone and threw the ball down, squealing with glee, "Touchdown! Touchdown!"
Giving his neck a slight rub, 2D winced, knowing the bassist was going to kill him. There was no way Murdoc hadn't seen the fall back. "2D!" their leader hissed, snagging him from behind by the cuff of his neck, "Wot the FUCK wos tha' all about? The girl fumbles wit the ball an' yeh jus' stare at 'er? Does yo' brain turn off at random times o' the 'our?" he yelled, rattling the singer like a bozo clown toy. Sensing an issue about, Noodle picked up the ball and cradled it like an infant, able to listen in the closer she got. "I-I didn't wanna 'urt 'er, Muds! She's a girl!" he defended, covering his face in order to shun the spit.
"'ew fuckin' cares? It's football for cryin' out loud!"
"Bu-But Murdoc, she's small! I don't wanna squoosh 'er or be rough or nut'in'..."
Closing his eyes, Murdoc took a deep breath, resting a hand on his hip while the other pinched the broken bridge of his nose, "So...yo' tellin' me you've been let'en 'em win three teh seven because Noodle's a bloody girl...Great. Tha's jus' great, faceache...Remind me teh fuck yeh face up later." Russel shook his head, "Muds, calm the hell down, it's just a game."
"Tha' YO' winnin! Don't tell me teh calm the 'ell down you 'ave the advantage of a girl on yo' team tha' dullard won't touch because she's delicate!" the bassist hissed, throwing a glare at the singer. Frowning a bit, Noodle tossed the ball down, "Iie! I am perfectly capable of handling anything you three can throw at me in this game!" she huffed, giving 2D a curious "were you really throwing the game" expression that he easily avoided by pretending to be interested in what Murdoc had to say. Either way, Noodle was ready to prove herself. She wanted to win fair and square, not be allowed easy scores because of her gender. "Fine then. We'll switch. Dullard, you be quarterback, an' don't fuck up." the bassist ordered, handing the ball to Russel, "Yo' go..."
Everyone set into position, 2D towering over Russel in defense, but Russel was about five times wider and easily identifiable as his large arm swung, releasing the brown sewed up material, sending it into an easy soar. Noodle was ready for the catch, but when it came to obtaining territory, Murdoc Niccals was a raging beast. Almost immediately after the ball was thrown, the bassist charged at his guitarist, smacking into her and crushing the child with his weight, leaving her in complete shock on the ground as he easily intercepted the catch and ran over to his team's touchdown zone, throwing the ball down while he pelvic thrusted a victory dance, "Tha's 'ow yeh do it, yeh bastard!" he cheered, mainly talking to 2D about the taking down Noodle bit.
However, the singer was not interested in the bassist's egotistical air, but in the thick scrape the girl had from her knee down to the center of the shin. Blood quickly covered this raw torn meat and the dirt getting into it did nothing for her pain. "See! See! Tha's wot I wos talkin' about! Yeh 'urt 'er. Muds! See!" 2D squealed over and over, continually pointing at her and nodding at the bassist walking over. Casting a shadow over all of them, Russel gently lifted Noodle and tossed her on his shoulder, resembling an ogre claiming his maiden. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"Iyaaaa! I can still play, it is a minor cut, Rusu-sama, please! Kudasaimasen!" the girl quickly called out, patting his back, but the drummer continued on his way with the other two following. "Yeh should apologize." 2D muttered, receiving a hard punch that was bound to become a bruise at some point. Shaking her head, Noodle sighed, "He does not have to, D-kun. It was not intended. It was a sport injury." Smirking at the girl, Murdoc roughly nudged the flinching singer, "See? Girl knows 'ow the game works, unlike some mentally challenged rejects..."
Once inside, Russel took her to the bathroom, all three each having a job to perform on Noodle's leg: Russel the alcohol, Murdoc the bandages, and 2D the comforting hug. "This is ridiculous. If Murdoc-sama had his organs hanging from a gash in his belly, you would not stop a game and worry..." she grumbled, arms crossed angrily. Giving her a smile, Russel put the used items away, "Yeah, but that's for other reasons, girl."
"Go teh 'ell, lards."
"Now may we pick up where we have left off?" she asked happily, hopping off the sink and ready to go. "No, I think you've had enough rough housin'. Wash yo' face an' get somethin' to eat." the drummer advised, stretching lightly, "I think I'll grab somethin', too." Putting the extra bandages away, Russel left the room and with a less than gentle rub to her head, Murdoc quickly followed. The restroom was awkwardly quiet as the girl patted her leg and glanced up at the bluehead, attention currently snagged by the wall. Slowly his eyes reared downward, fingers curled around his wrist, giving it a squeeze with each passing second. "Yo' a better player 'an me, anyways..." he muttered quietly, rocking gently on his heels. Rolling her eyes with a smile, Noodle knew this to be somewhat true, but allowed his precautions of gender to go by this time. Lifting her in a careful bridal style, the singer hiked off towards the kitchen with the subjective preteen, not too chafed by his chivalric behavior. It was a rare moment when the girl allowed her gender to benefit her need; however, the friendship of a friend was not normally needed in this instant. Just wanted. And they were both fine with that.
Author's Note: Hope you liked it. As much as I love football, I'm usually left out when its a "man's" bonding time, so whatever. WE GIRLS CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT! Gotta love guys though. Everything's funnier when they mess up. Uhm...if you guys have any ideas (not that I'm ever out of them), but maybe something you say or suggest will give me a greater mush of story. Or I can continue on my own. Your choice. Review.