AN: This is my first fanfic, (even though I'm always reading them) so please be nice. It is a series, and I'll post more as soon as someone reviews it. Also, I know there isn't any checkered linoleum in the kitchen (pretend there is) and that it doesn't follow up with Rise of the Ogre; I started writing this before it came out. Thanks, and enjoy
"King me!"
"We're not playing checkers 'D." Russel gestured to the flimsy cardboard that had originally held the chess pieces that where currently scattered across the black and white checkered linoleum floor of the kitchen. Just a few minutes ago, Russel had been trying to explain the rules of chess to his blue-haired band-mate, and in an attempt to make it easier for the simple-minded singer to understand, he dug up some chess pieces, and because the chess-board was probably somewhere under a heap of toxic waste in the landfill just outside the kitchen, Russel set the game up on the kitchen's floor instead. 2D was trying as hard as he could to pay attention to Russel's advice, but somehow he couldn't quite make a move that wouldn't result in his king being taken down later.
2D sighed, scratched his arse, and pushed his single remaining pawn back to a square somewhere along the side of the kitchen table.
Russel grunted in frustration, and moved 2D's piece back to where it was before.
"Can't move backwards, 'D."
"Wot? That wusn't backwards, that wus . . . erm. . . sidewards!"
2D's scrawny fingers lifted the pawn back to it's shady spot by the table and 'hrmphed' in triumph.
"You can't move 'sidewards' either."
Russel snatched the pawn up and dropped it back in it's original spot.
"Well. . . this game is stupid!" 2D sprawled his legs out on the floor, crossed his arms and pouted.
Russel came very close to telling his fellow band-mate the only reason he couldn't play is because the game required players with an I.Q higher than a banana's, but the two were joined by a very disgruntled and unpleasant Murdoc, sporting his legendary royal purple cape, a pair of his most stained Y-fronts, a bad case of bed-hair and an even worse attitude.
"Morning, Muds!" 2D's pouty expression turned into a bright morning glow as he smiled his little gaped-touth grin.
Murdoc ignored him, which was quite normal when he'd only just managed to scramble out of the winnebago in time for a quick breakfast. He then walked instinctively towards the refrigerator, opened its door and leaned in a bit to locate a bottle of beer stashed somewhere behind a rotten cantaloupe and a carton of orange juice. Murdoc drug his feet across the floor slowly, going out of his way to knock down one of 2D's pawns before seating himself on a stool by the kitchen table.
2D sighed and stood his piece back up, muttering something along the lines of, "I wus just tryin' to be nice, I wus."
Murdoc paid no attention to 2D, or Russel's brief scolding, and snapped open his beer. After taking a few swigs, he took a moment to get his bearings, then stretched out and glanced at the chess game taking place on his kitchen floor. At first he didn't know what to make of it, it was only a chess game, but he didn't want it to be played on his floor, nor did he want 2D to be sitting so close to him, but he knew Russel wouldn't be moving anytime soon unless Russel himself decided to get up, so Murdoc belched, scratched his stomach, rested his elbow on the table and watched as 2D attempted to keep his king and queen from being added to a pile of his fallen pieces next to Russel's ankle.
As 2D's lanky fingers hovered above his rook, Murdoc snickered and said, "Move you're bishop or Russel 'll take it an' then you'll really be screwed."
2D paused and gave a surprised look up towards the bassist, then lowered his eyes to his rook, then his bishop, then to Russel's vacant white eyes.
Had Murdoc just given his Advice? Surely it was a mean trick that would result in him getting laughed at; but then again, it was early in the morning, and anyone who knew the foul man knew the best time to get him to act civilized was just after he'd gotten out of bed.
2D chanced another nervous glance at Murdoc, and then slid his fingers around the bishop and moved it to a far corner, where one of Russel's pawns had been located.
"Wow, Muds," Russel chuckled and flicked the pawn to the very small pile of his taken pieces (mostly pawns) on 2D's side. "When did you become the master of chess?"
"Well," Murdoc gloated a bit, "It's a game that came naturally to, me, really. After all, it was the British who created it."
"Actually, Murdoc, chess was invented in India, along with polo and hospitals." 2D piped, sliding his rook up and taking yet another pawn from Russel.
Murdoc's grin suddenly turned into a dark scowl; the satanist hated being corrected.
"Who asked you anyway, Dullard?!" and with one sweep of his foot, he knocked down all the small plastic pieces he could reach and stormed off. The sleepy, peaceful Murdoc that had been sitting in the kitchen had definitely woken up.
Russel sighed and started to reset the game while trying to assure the trembling man in front of him that he really hadn't caused Murdoc's blowup.
2D, however, was uninterested in the chess game now, for his stomach was growling as he registered it was empty.
"Fanks, Russ, but I fink I'm gonna eat breakfast now."
Russel sighed and nodded, gathering up the cheese pieces and dropping into their box.
"Yeah, you eat. I need to remind Murdoc about looking for a new guitarist."
2D twitched a bit, stood up and walked slowly out to the window overlooking the landfill, trying not to think of why they needed a new guitarist for the band in the first place.
Russel's memories of that night flooded back to him: walking in on the unsightly scene, the tightening of his fists and the pounding Murdoc received, kicking Paula out of the band, and the worst part, telling Stu-pot about it.
The poor man cried for a week straight. Murdoc made sure he never crossed paths with Russel for a month, and Russel had to confiscate all painkillers 2D carried around with him, for fear that he would take his own life.
In about two months, the band reassembled, and, "Paula" had become a dirty word even Murdoc didn't have the stomach to use.
Russel felt a twang of guilt for bringing up what the band referred to as, "The Past" and stood up to face 2D, who had his back turned to him and his face pressed against the grimy windowpane.
"Look, sorry 'D. Ima make us some breakfast. Steak and eggs sound good?"
"Mmmfnksrus,"
"What?" Russel asked, screwing up his face and taking out a skillet.
2D took a step back from the window and peeled his face off the glass.
"I said, 'No fanks, Russ.' I fink I'll make me own breakfast today," he said, beaming out onto the landfill.
Russel cocked an eyebrow, "You know you can't used the-"
"Stove-top. Or the oven."
"And you know that-"
"The microwave is not fer drying dishes. I know, Russ."
"A'ight, then," the bulky drummer turned slowly, watching the lanky 2D grin with glee out of the corner of his pale eyes.
First, 2D needed to gather his utensils. Normally, the dish he was preparing required a simple bowl and spoon. But in Kong Studio's, where no one did their dishes, only a bent fork and slightly melted measuring cup were available. 2D didn't mind much, he dropped them on the kitchen table all the same.
Next, 2D needed to pick the dry ingredient. In a cabinet the corner on the right side of the kitchen was a stash of colorful boxes. It was 2D's favorite cabinet, his breakfast/lunch/dinner cabinet. After admiring all the different boxes, 2D selected a pink and red box.
Humming a little tune, he snatched the box and plopped it on the kitchen table.
Next came the liquid, something he doubted would be in the fridge of Kong Studios. Stu-pot opened the door, bent over and peered inside. There weren't any cartons of it, but there was a glass jug filled with a liquid that appeared to be the same color and consistency of what he was looking for, so he just pulled it out and sat it on the table.
After a session of pouring, leveling, pouring, and leveling, 2D exclaimed, "TA-DA!!!"
"A measuring cup full of cereal?"
"Yeah, Russ, innit great?"
"Uh, sure, 'D." Russel turned back to his skillet full of eggs.
A now fully clothed Murdoc strode into the kitchen.
"Watcha got there, Face-ache?"
"Breakfast," 2D smiled as he gestured towards the measuring cup.
"You made it, Dullard?" Murdoc leaned in on the soggy mix of cereal and (what 2D believed to be) milk.
"I sure did!" 2D's grin grew.
"And it's not on fire?"
"Nope!" A still smiling 2D grabbed the fork and began to stir the cereal.
"Well, good job, Dullard." Murdoc gave him a pat on the back, and sat down at the kitchen table, expecting to be fed.
Russel plated a bit of steak and eggs, brought the plate over, and held it above Murdoc's head.
"You gonna put in an add for a new guitarist?"
"Fuck no!" Murdoc crossed his arms, glaring up at the plate as if it had been the one who had asked.
Russel shrugged and carried the plate away.
"Wait, wait, no- I mean yes I'll put in the bloody add, just gimme the damn food!"
Murdoc wailed, reaching out desperately for the plate.
Russel smirked and handed over the food.
THE NEXT DAY
"Did you-"
"Yeah, Russ, I put in the bleedin' add. Said they'd be sendin' o're someone in a week or so."
2D wandered off into depths of his nearly empty mind.
"Wonder what e'll be like. . ."
I really hope that wasn't so awful you had to claw your eyes out. Feedback would be nice. :3