The Gorillaz:

"Rock It"

Fan fiction by Vilsy...

The Gorillaz characters and related situations thereof are copyrighted property of Jamie Hewlett and the Gorillaz Partnership. Just thought everyone would like to know that.

You might be familiar with the music video "Rock It." If not, you should check it out at the Gorillaz website in the cinema section of the studio. Very neat song, cool video, and I'm paying it homage by formulating a story based around it. Why is the band wandering around in that surreal wasteland? Read on to discover a possible answer.

Day Four

"For the millionth ruddy time, Russ, we are not bloody lost! I happen to know exactly where we are!" Murdoc's scratchy yet vehement voice reverberated quite clearly off the walls of the close quarters of the Winnebago, one black eye and one red eye glaring ominously at the robust male sitting beside him. Russel's pale white eyes returned the spiteful gaze, but his expression remained calm and collected, contrasting the middle-aged bassist's impatient scowl.

"All right, cool it Muds. Was jussa question, dog."

Murdoc's already white knuckles curled even tighter around the steering wheel, almost as if to squeeze blood from it. "Just a question you've asked every five bleeding minutes! Give it a rest, already; we'll be in town by sundown. Sweet Satan…" Multicolored eyes were now leering back through the windshield, not at a smoothly paved street, but at a rocky, bumpy, dusty, desolate road. Yes, surely they'd arrive at their destination before sunset.

Noodle was resting her chin against her palm, gazing out of the window as she sat across from 2-D at the rather small fold-down table seating arrangement just behind the driver and passenger's seats. Her bangs shagged down over her slim eyes, so one couldn't tell if she was in fact napping or indeed observing the outside world. Regardless, she appeared melancholy.. Enough so that the vocalist sitting across from her felt as though he should inquire about her condition.

"Oy, Noodle? Aw'right there, love?" 2-D's voice was soft, nearly silent as he'd been trying not to draw attention from the two in the cockpit. He had once mentioned that Murdoc had missed a turn, watching as the sign for the proper exit rolled by outside the window, and he still had the bruise to show for his impudence. After that incident, he chose to remain quiet and idle lest he incur the Satanist's wrath once more.

Noodle remained motionless, poised firmly on that palm that supported her cheek, leaning her elbow on the less-than-sturdy table. It was enough to bear the little weight she put on it, and after a substantial spell of awkward silence (disregarding Murdoc and Russel's arguments) she finally turned her head a bit to acknowledge 2-D. "Hai… I am all right, 2-D-sama. I wish that our journey's end would come soon. I have much boredom overshadowing the joy I once felt."

2-D rested his black, empty eyes on the young girl in front of him, comprehending her words sluggishly, but commiserating with her all the same. "Aye…" He looked past her to see how Russel was faring with Murdoc, then looked back to the Japanese pubescent. "It is a bit boring. I thought we'd be there by now but…" He dared not test the quality of Murdoc's hearing; despite his age and having to stand next to a bass amp for extended periods of time, Murdoc seemed to have acute hearing whenever 2-D said something worthy of berating.

"How many times do I 'ave to tell ya, this is a short cut! D'ya really want to be stuck in traffic all damned day? Well? I didn't think so, so stuff it!" Murdoc's mood wasn't improving, but Russel seemed to be taking it well, only resorting to name calling once or twice in verbal retaliation.

As the situation was, the band had embarked on a marvelous road trip via Murdoc's not-so-marvelous recreational vehicle. The original plan was to spend some quality time together on the beaches of the French Riviera, then perhaps gallivant through the south of France to do some gigs. Whatever the initial proposal had been, it had been greatly altered by Murdoc's stubbornness and lack of directional sense. After making it through the tunnel spanning the depths of the English channel, things started to look down as none of them could remember France looking quite so much like a desert. Days had passed and no sign of civilization could be found. Not even a gas station…

The hours dragged on, as did the Winne over rather rough terrain. Noodle had rested her head on the table top now, exhaustion and boredom consuming her. She awoke to a start each time the vehicle jarred violently over a large bump, or when Murdoc spit out a particularly loud curse. Her dark black eyes suddenly met with a similar pair, staring sleepily back at her. 2-D gazed at her from the same position, resting his head against his arms which were folded across the table. "'Ey Noodle, want to turn in fer th' night? I fink Murdie is hell bent on gettin' to where we're goin' tonight, an' th' table ain't so comfy."

Noodle agreed with a silent nod, but couldn't quite act upon it. Laying her head down again, she closed her eyes and was out. 2-D blinked several times as if waiting for the girl to revive, but realized it was a moot point. Standing up slowly, he stretched his arms and let out a yawn loud enough to annoy the hell out of the driver.

"Stop it yawning ya sod, will ya?" Murdoc grumbled, not having any real reason to request 2-D to cease such involuntary actions, other than he needed someone to bitch at and Russel had long since retired to the couch. "I'm certain that if you'd stop being so ruddy annoying we'd get there much sooner."

2-D ignored Murdoc's sound logic, then glanced down at the slumbering Noodle. "Right, sorry Murdoc, but I was jus' going to ask ya if maybe Noodle could lay down in yer bed cos.. Well she's uncomfortable ya know?"

Once again fingers clenched the steering wheel, and black bowl-cut hair bristled a bit. "What'n the hell do you think this is, a 5-star hotel?" Silence ensued from both awake parties, then the black-haired one sighed and turned his eyes from the road briefly. "Fine, lay her down in there. But don't put yer filthy mitts on nothin' in there, ya hear me?"

"Y-yes…"

"An' come back after that."

"Aw'right."

With relative caution, 2-D turned to Noodle and scooped her up in his arms, draping her against his shoulder and making his way to the threshold of the kitchen. It was pitch black in there, and if 2-D hadn't been such a horror film aficionado, he might just have been too frightened to walk through the creepy space. Nevertheless, he high-stepped it through the questionable contents of the floor and made it into Murdoc's sanctuary. Noodle stirred a few times, now clinging to his back to prevent from slipping as she realized what was happening. She'd grown quite a bit as she'd reached teenager-hood, and she couldn't climb around on Murdoc or 2-D as much as she used to. Russel was a different story however, and despite her maturity, she still took time to be silly and use the robust drummer as a playground.

"2-D-sama. Doko da… ano… where are we? It is so dark."

He felt her dig her painted nails into the fabric of his t-shirt, and he came to a stop in front of Murdoc's bed after nearly tripping on the horrific polar bear skin rug in the doorway. "Oh, I jus' figured you might want to sleep on a… mat….tress.." His empty eyes scanned what Murdoc claimed to be a bed, which was a well-used mattress covered by a thoroughly stained sheet. His brow furrowed, and he wondered if bad Karma would return to him if he was callous enough to lay Noodle down on the thing. Luckily, he didn't have to make the decision.

Noodle wiggled her way out of his grasp and slid onto the atrocious bed, trying her best to avoid laying in what seemed to be a puddle of… something. She nuzzled into the rather lumpy pillow and emitted a sigh. "Arigatou 2-D-sama. Oyasumi."

2-D nodded, not sure if leaving her in this shrine of decay was the best thing he could do, but she seemed content enough. "Aw'right, g'night Noodle."

The blue-haired zombie did an about face and began to leave, but was a bit shocked when he was abruptly jarred to a standstill as a small hand grasped his wrist. Blinking his eyes that were as pitch black as the semi-foul-smelling bedroom, 2-D turned his head to look back at the one who was impeding him. "2-D-sama. Do not let Murdoc-san be mean to you tonight. And tell him his bed smells like an unpleasant union of vodka and body fluid." With that matter-of-fact comment, the young Asian guitarist drew 2-D's hand to her face, and with a soft "chu", gave his knuckles a modest kiss. Having done that, she snuggled her face back into the pillow, apparently too tired to noticed that it reeked of Murdoc's general bad odor.

2-D managed a smile as his hand was returned to him, and continued on the path back through the hauntingly eerie kitchen to the living/navigating area.

Another eerie thing was that Murdoc was completely silent, still sitting in the driver's seat, still driving. 2-D peeked out from behind the doorframe of the kitchen, as if expecting either a gruesome Scooby-Doo monster to jump out and attack, or worse, to get an earful from the band leader. The scrawny 20-something stared intently at the back of Murdoc's head, a moment or two passed and silence once again ensued. Sighing, 2-D walked passed Russel who was laying on the couch, snoring and scratching himself as he tended to do in his sleep, and he took a few steps towards the fold-down table.

"Oy, come sit up 'ere Stu-Pot."

2-D froze in his tracks, then turned and blinked several times in confusion. "Erm.. Me?"

Another beat of silence fell over the two, but Murdoc was visibly shaken. "No, not you. The other sodding blue-haired wanker!" He finally turned, one red eye glowing eerily in the dim light of the dashboard, his lip curled in its classic position of rage. "Of course I mean you, get your arse up 'ere!"

2-D didn't have to be asked twice, and he shuffled hastily up to the front and slunk into the passenger's seat, using ever ounce of poor posture he could muster. It was his hope that maybe he could disappear into the torn up seat cushion. No such luck. Every bump they barreled over made him cringe, expecting the rocky wrath of the road to somehow personify itself through Murdoc's own rage, thus resulting in personal injury. But the punch to the arm/ribs/face never came, and they sat together in silence for the best part of 40 minutes. Suddenly, Murdoc realized that he hadn't ingested mass quantities of nicotine for quite some time, and it frightened him.

"Stu! Gimme a fag."

2-D had vegged out so to speak, drowning within the limbo of sleep and consciousness, but was soon brought to his senses when he received a sharp elbowing to the gut. He let out a short gasp and doubled over a bit, holding his stomach with both hands.

"Cigarette! Cigarette!" the other demanded, reaching a hand out to receive the goods.

2-D sputtered out a response that was all but comprehensible, then reached into his pocket and extracted a cigarette and his lighter. In his oh-so-polite manner, Murdoc snatched both items from his band mate's hands and slide the half-crumpled tobacco stick between his lips, taking his hands off the wheel for a moment to light up. "Ahh… much better." He puffed away on it until he was futilely sucking on the butt, then abruptly slammed on the brake, causing 2-D to cry out in shock as he fell out of the seat and slammed against the dashboard, repeating history as usual. Murdoc blinked, staring out of the windshield, feeling the vibration in the floor as Russel rolled off the couch and impacted with a very audible THUD! … and then curses. While 2-D groaned and shakily peeled himself off of the dashboard, and muffled protests in Japanese could be heard through the wall, Murdoc's expression became incredulous, and he turned to look at the blue-haired one and spoke with the utmost earnest. "Bleeding hell! I think we may be lost!"

Gone is the sun, and the hopes of making it to the Riviera on a timely basis. What will our intrepid foursome do now? Day 5 approaches.. R&R if you so desire.