2D
Zombie movies always reminded 2D of Noodle.
Memories came flooding back as he sat in front of the tv with it's wickedly poor reception and zombies crept across deserted warehouses. The zombie flicks were incredibly cheesy and only 2D and Noodle could have possibly thought it was scary. They'd both been full of innocent, childlike wonder as the zombies picked up chainsaws. Her tiny hand would grab his jacket and clutch at it with terror. "T'is all right, Noods," 2D would say, but he was trembling himself, thinking what if, what if what if? What if the zombies kept up their funeral march all the way to Kong to munch on his own flesh? What if they got Noodle? Then 2D would be forced to deal with Muds alone. Somehow, this was unthinkable. He tried not to think of zombies eating Noodle, but the thoughts kept edging in like one of his bad migranes.
The tv flickered and white lines crept across it. He'd seen this movie upwards of twenty times, but he sometimes forgot just how it ended. It was a miracle the battered, miniture TV even got reception out on Plastic Beach. Stupid mound of trash, 2D thought. He stared briefly out the window, looking for the crazy whale that circled the underwater window daily. Stupid, bloody whale. Comes by every hour to bang against the glass. Living in a basement, I am. Bloody basement. All Mud's fault. Gassed me, he did. Wouldn't be so bad if Noodle were here...
He clutched at his head, and sat very still. He tried to pretend he was back at Kong, and the sun was shining through his windows. He wasn't underwater or anything like that. Just the sun and the sound of Mud's tuning up a guitar, and the idea that he wasn't sitting on crappy point Nemo, completely alone. The mountain of trash they sat on got bigger by the day as Muds tossed out empty rum bottles. The only thing he really had to look forward to was Muds shouting at the giant Russel which was kinda funny, come to think of it. The food bill for him was enourmous and this made Murdoc angry, which made him angry at 2D, which had resulted in the stuffy little room with bad reception.
"When I get out of this prison, I'm going back to Kong..." 2D whispered. The place was already burned to the ground, but he wanted to sit in the charred out shell of Noodle's room one last time. The skeleton of Kong was still there even if the soul had long gone out. There was the ghost of De La Soul, who prowled the skeleton hallways. He would probably be glad to see 2D come back.
A particulary nasty bit of zombie butchery came on the screen, making 2D almost fly out of his seat. His thin arm shot across to hold onto Noodle. "Oh, tha's right..." he whispered. Ropes seemed to draw tight around his throat and he sat there shaking, hoping Noodle would tell him it was over now. Plastic Beach had just been a nightmare. "I hate yew Muds! I hate you! I...I...I can't..."
He hated Murdoc. He hated this mountain of trash. He hated himself for letting Noodle die. A tear washed silently down his face and left a clean streak through the dirt.
"It can't get any worse for me, can it now?" He said quitely, as the key turned in the door. It opened with a bang. "Faceache! Should I come back later? What are we watching?" Said Murdoc Nichols. His face was a particularly hideous shade of green today.
"Zombies. I mean, nuffink." He wondered if Muds would let him out today. Fridays were Freedom day. He could go wherever he wanted on Plastic Beach. Was today Friday? Blast. Wasn't it Wednesday? Waffle Wednesday, but where was the food?
Murdoc wrenched the DVD player open and broke the horrid zombie disc in half. Two dent needed a proper kick in the pants to get back to work. He heard a soft groan coming from the hunched over little body on the floor and his eyes flicked down to take in the singer. He was wearing three day old clothes, his hair was disheveled, and he looked absolutely pathetic. Hmmm...nothing new. Unfortunately, Muds saw the single tear dangling from the worn out singer's chin and knelt down to examine him more closely.
2D shrugged away from the garlic breath. He rubbed furiously at his cheek.
"The only reason to cry is if I were to die. Unfortunately for you, here I am! So you see, there's no reason."
2D shrugged. "I 'ave feelings too y' know," he said.
"Absolutely shocking," grunted Muds. He would not admit he was concerned. But he was. He had never seen 2D so depressed, and he had done plenty of horrible things to the lead singer.
"Keep working on those songs. We have a recording tommorow."
"Wot's the point?"
"That's the right attitude!" Muds clapped him once on the back and dropped the broken CD in his lap. "No more distractions. Back to work!"
"Jus' when I think things can't get any worse, they always fin' a way," said 2D as the door slammed shut. He tried to put the two halfs of the CD back together. Oh hey, I have some tape. No, that was never going to work. It was broken, just like everything in his life.
Broken all broken.
Dunn dunn dunn To be continued...