Chapter 2: Murdoc has a Visitor

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

The Humanz tour had just come to an end. Gorillaz had settled down for the time being in an undernourished-looking townhouse sitting in a row of similarly slummy constructions loitering on the outskirts of Manchester. Now that life had calmed down – or, in other words, come to a complete standstill – for myself and my bandmates, I, Noodle, spent most of my time engaged in one of two activities:

1. Waiting for the breeze which would topple this row of decrepit houses like a set of dominoes, and

2. Deciding how I would spend the inevitable hiatus which would surely follow our latest album.

What, you didn't think we'd get back to writing music right away, did you? Since when have Gorillaz ever done that? Don't get me wrong; I would have loved to dive straight into another album! Music is my passion! I'm pretty sure Russel was hyped to make more music as well. As for 2D… well… Let's be honest; music was the only thing he was good at. Maybe my blue-haired friend had hidden talents (perhaps even some common sense and intelligence) when he wasn't high, but that was just the problem: he was always high. Even if he weren't addicted to those pills, he'd still need to take them for his headaches. I doubted the poor guy would ever sober up.

This band's biggest problem, however, went by the name of Murdoc Niccals. However much I, Russel, and 2D may have wanted to make more music, we were a rocket with no fuel without the cooperation of the man in charge of the Gorillaz bank account. Naturally, our self-centered founder had never felt the need to share control of the cash flow with anyone else. Therefore, until the old pickle decided to quit basking in the glory of Humanz and meeting underage girls at pubs every night, Gorillaz wasn't going anywhere. It would be at least 5 years, I thought.

Unwilling to simply vegetate like the abandoned potato in the back of our pantry for the rest of the decade, I began to brainstorm a couple of ways to keep myself occupied for the next few years. I would travel, of course; I could never get enough of seeing the world's beauty and experiencing its many cultures. However, I thought I might also take my physics degree to the next level. I loved the thought of having a doctorate under my belt.

Thus, I found myself on a Saturday evening curled up in my pajamas on a scrappy leather armchair, a faded red quilt thrown across my lap, Katsu purring as his whiskers tickled my bare feet, and an article on particle physics pulled up on my tablet. Heavy winds filled the house with the sounds of faint whistling and creaking wood, and rain was called for in the course of the night. Russel was out attending the opening of a new vintage record store; 2D had gone to bed early and Murdoc was doing whatever it is he does when he's alone in his room. I had just settled down, tucking myself deep into the warm fabrics to evade the chilly air, and was planning on spending the rest of the evening catching up on the latest theories in science. Despite the ominous weather, I was determined that my evening would be calm.

Relaxing, despite the shrill, woody creaks.

Rejuvenating, despite the restless cold.

At least, that's how I planned the evening to go.

Sigh… I should've known better.

Since when has anything ever gone according to plan for the Gorillaz?

. . .

Ding-dong!

Katsu folded his ears against the back of his head as the jarring sound of our doorbell broke the silence. I could feel the tips of his claws poking through my pajama pantlegs and grazing my skin as he shifted in irritation. The cat's tail flicked and his golden eyes glared up at me in annoyance. I've gotten pretty good at interpreting Katsu's facial expressions over the years. This one clearly complained, "Our furnace is broken… our fridge is broken… of all the stupid appliances in this unsightly hut, why does the doorbell have to work so bloody perfectly?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I decided to ignore the doorbell, instead swiping my finger across my tablet screen to read the next section of New Discoveries on Quarks.

If only every annoyance in this house were so easy to ignore…

"NOODLE!" Murdoc's raspy voice hollered from upstairs. "ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"WHY SHOULD I?" I shouted back. Growling lowly, Katsu placed his paws over his ears.

"I'M TAKING A BIRD OUT TO A PUB TONIGHT! I NEED YOU TO LET HER IN AND KEEP HER BUSY WHILE I GET READY!"

"WHY SHOULD I ENTERTAIN YOUR GIRLFRIEND? DO IT YOURSELF!"

"THE PUB'S HAVING A COSTUME PARTY! I CAN'T COME DOWNSTAIRS UNTIL I'M IN CHARACTER!"

Katsu, fed up with the shouting match, hopped off my chair and fled under the television stand.

I rolled my eyes. It's bad enough that Murdoc can't seem to spend an evening doing something normal, but when he allows his plans to break my peace, a line is crossed.

Why should I help Murdoc? It's not like he's accustomed to lifting a finger for any of us. The only nice think I've ever seen him do for any of his bandmates is reminding 2D to take his pills, and I'm pretty sure Muds only does that because he can't stand the singer when he's awake enough to talk endlessly about nonsense.

Furthermore, I was mad at Murdoc! I'd been cross with him for weeks and he knew it. Every time Russel and I approach him with questions about when we'd start working on our next album, he brushed us off like flies, belittled us and told us to keep our noses out of his business. 2D even tried to talk with him about making more music once. The singer left that conversation with a black eye and a headache and spent the rest of the evening doped up in his room.

To make a long story short, I didn't want to help Murdoc.

I wasn't going to answer the door.

Hmmm…

Actually…

Maybe there's an opportunity here.

An opportunity to get back at Murdoc!

I turned my tablet off and set it gently on a side-table. As I rose from the armchair, tucking my quilt snugly over my shoulders, I felt my mouth curve into a sly grin.

My, my… It sure would be a shame if someone chased off Murdoc's new lady friend…

I strode across the carpet, towards the foyer. The room resonated with the eerie sound of creaking wood and howling wind, reminding me of the storm raging outside. It seemed almost cruel to send our visitor off without letting them warm up a bit first, but really, I was doing this poor woman a favor. It's best, I reasoned, not to get mixed up with Murdoc if you can avoid it.

I could tell her that he's a psychopath. A murderer, perhaps. Maybe even a cannibal.

As my gaze settled on the rough wooden door, the sound of knocking echoed hollowly through the room.

I could tell her that he's taken me hostage and warn her that she's next!

My fingers closed around the cool brass doorknob just as a female voice piped up from the other side:

"Mr. Niccals, are you home? This is- "

I threw the door open.

The woman's voice dropped off as we locked eyes. Now would have been the perfect time to send her off with a manic description of Murdoc's murderous ways if I hadn't been struck speechless myself.

Standing in our doorway was a fully-uniformed police officer.

The woman in uniform looked me up and down, taking in my barefoot, pajama-clad appearance. Recovering from her apparent surprise, she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders and spoke in a level tone, "Good evening. My name is Officer Jackson of the Manchester Police Department. Is this the home of a Mr. Murdoc Niccals?"

I shifted my weight between my feet apprehensively. I wasn't one to get nervous around police on any typical day and, with the company Murdoc tends to attract, I'd come to take the appearance of law enforcement in stride. However, the appearance of an officer when I was expecting to find a very different sort of guest at the door had caught me off guard, especially since I had just been considering seeing if I could convince Murdoc's new lady friend to call the cops on him as a joke. Furthermore, I felt off my game dressed in bedclothes in front of a crisply uniformed employee of the city. Besides, why would a police officer show up at someone's house this late in the evening? It didn't make sense!

But since when has life ever made sense for the Gorillaz?

Quickly recovering from my shock, I informed the officer, "Yes, Murdoc lives here. May I ask why-"

Then it hit me: the costume party! Murdoc had specifically mentioned that the pub he planned to visit was having a costume party, so it only made sense that his company would be wearing such a recognizable outfit and acting in character. Mind you, it was a very good costume, indiscernible from a real police uniform. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a relative in the police force and had asked to borrow a real uniform for the night. My face easing into a grin, I decided I might as well play along. "Oh, yes, I remember. Come in, Officer Jackson. Murdoc is expecting you."

'Officer Jackson' nodded in consent and I led the way into the house. I could hear Murdoc thumping around upstairs as I guided Jackson into the sitting room and motioned for her to sit on the couch. I resumed my previous pose on the leather armchair, unwrapping the quilt from my shoulders to throw over my lap. From the other side of the room, Katsu poked his nose out from under the TV stand, sniffing the air curiously as he detected our guest.

My evening had, admittedly, been a little dull as of yet and I reasoned that I might as well have some fun playing along with Murdoc's guest while the opportunity lasted. "So, it's rather unusual for a police officer to be making house calls this late, is it not?"

The woman gave me an appraising look. "Yes, I prefer to get scheduled work done during the workday, before 5 at the latest. However, when I last spoke with Murdoc, he said, and I quote, 'the night time is the right time. Show up at ten and you'll get what you're looking for.'"

I let out a short chuckle. Slipping out from beneath the TV, Katsu padded across the room, appraising Jackson with a tilted head and gleaming eyes before approaching her and arching his back against her leg. The woman leaned down to stroke his back as I parried, "Yeah, that sounds like Murdoc, alright. How drunk was he when he said that?"

"Quite drunk. His eyes were looking in different directions. I'm actually surprised he remembered I was coming tonight." Her fingers continued to run through Katsu's fur, and the cat's eyes fixed me with a pleased expression. I like this human; can we replace the green one with this one?

If only life were that simple, Katsu. "Well, if there's anything Murdoc will remember, it's a chance to meet women," I responded with an eye roll.

Jackson scowled. "I certainly hope 'meeting a woman' isn't the only reason he put forth the effort to remember this meeting. There are more important things he should be thinking about!"

"I wouldn't count on it," I replied with exasperation. Jackson's frown deepened.

Just as she opened her mouth to unleash what I'm sure would have been a very scathing comment on Murdoc's priorities, the doorbell chimed once more. I stood up irately. Who could be at the door now? I met eyes with Katsu, who made his own irritation clear by his flattened ears and lifting a ridge of hair along his spine. "Can you wait in here for a minute, Officer Jackson? I need to go check who's at the door."

"Of course," Jackson replied. "But could you see if Murdoc is almost ready to join us? We have important business to discuss."

I nodded in assent and exited the room, Katsu trailing behind me like a furry shadow.

As I entered the foyer, Murdoc finally made his appearance, thundering down the staircase in a blur of shimmering glitter. When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I observed that his hair was styled in a manner not unlike Elvis Presley's, and he was garbed in a costume to fit the aesthetic. He glared at me as I met him, his mismatched eyes boring into mine with their vindictive fire. "I told you to let her in! I'm not going to let a useless lackey who can't answer a blasted doorbell the first time it rings stay in my house!"

A bolt of anger burned in my chest. My brow furrowed as I retorted sharply, "this house is being paid for with Gorillaz money, so it belongs to all of us. And I did answer the doorbell the first time; this is someone new. Your company is in the sitting room."

Murdoc's face brightened. "Is she? Excellent! You deal with whoever's at the door; I'll take my bird out through the back so I won't have to deal with whoever else has decided to waste our time!" Before I could protest he had turned away and was strolling confidently in all his glittery glory towards the sitting room.

Katsu hissed at my feet. Why do we still live with this guy?, he seemed to say.

I sighed inwardly, feeling that the thunderheads outside might as well be drifting over my weary mind. Trust me, Katsu, if 2D and Russel weren't here, we would have struck out long ago. Making my way towards the door, I regretted leaving my blanket in the other room as the wind howled and raged against the house's squealing siding. The new visitor had begun pounding on their side of the door; a female voice squealed, "Hey, open up! It's windy out here!" Bracing myself for the cold, I yanked the door open.

Sigh… Is it too much to ask for one normal guest?

This woman was dressed in the likeness of Marilyn Monroe, complete with a short wig and a face practically paved with lurid makeup, her appearance somewhat ravaged by the windstorm. She glared at me with condescending, narrowed eyes (I could feel my dislike for her growing already) and sneered, "Who are you? I thought this was Murdoc's place!"

"Why are you here?" I asked, maintaining a cool composure.

The woman tossed her fake hair angrily as a strong breeze blew past her. "I'm here to go with Murdoc to the costume party, stupid!"

Behind the burning fire of my rapidly expanding spite for this unpleasant human being, I almost didn't notice the paradox which soon had me tilting my head in confusion. "Wait… If you're going with Murdoc to the pub, then who's-"

"WHO THE DEVIL ARE YOU?" Murdoc's voice howled from the sitting room.

"My name is Officer Jackson; we met last week. Based on your reaction to seeing me here, I take it you don't remember our meeting?"

"What the heck is going on in there?" pouted the woman at the door, trying to glance around me.

"Mr. Niccals," I heard Officer Jackson (who I was beginning to realize was probably a real police officer) declare to Murdoc, "At the meeting which you cannot remember, we discussed the consequences of certain illegal actions you have been committing. By tonight, you were either supposed to pay your dues to society willingly or be placed under arrest."

"Illegal activities? Whatever it is, I'm innocent until proven guilty! You don't have any proof!"

The woman at the door saw fit to attempt to push her way past me into the house. No sooner had she shoved the heel of her hand into my shoulder than I grabbed her arm and threw her over my back. She landed belly-up on the floor with a satisfying thud. I crouched down, leaned close to her face, and hissed, "Murdoc won't be accompanying you to the pub tonight. What's going on here has nothing to do with you, so I suggest that you leave. Immediately."

Katsu growled in agreement, showing off his sharp feline teeth.

Glancing frantically between my cat and me, the bedraggled woman opened her mouth, emitted a mouse-like squeak, then scrambled to her feet, racing out of the house. As I rose back into a standing position, the front door squealed pitifully on its hinges, bouncing off the wall as strong winds blew into the gloomy foyer. The cool wind contrasted sharply with the anger burning just beneath my skin; anger at the woman, at the evening, at the ultimate cause of this evening's unpleasant surprises. Anger at Murdoc.

Illegal activities, eh? What has the living corpse done this time?

The howling of the wind only partially drowned out the shouts and thumps erupting in the living room. I imagined Officer Jackson had seen fit to arrest Murdoc and that the bassist was putting up a fight. Katsu, having had enough of all the noise in the house, leaped through the open doorway, waved his tail in a see-you-later gesture, and sprinted off to spend the rest of the night hunting in the storm. Gazing after him, I noticed another police car pulling up to the curb, bearing at least four more officers.

I was tired. Angry. Upset.

I was fed up with this evening.

Most of all, however, I was fed up with Murdoc.

Maybe, if I had stuck around downstairs, I could have spoken with the police officers, found out what the problem was, and assured the police that they didn't need to make an arrest, that I could convince Murdoc to put right whatever he had done wrong. But that wasn't going to happen. I had had enough of taking responsibility for Murdoc, and I wasn't going to get mixed up with whatever was about to go down here. I didn't have the energy to care what they did with Murdoc. I wasn't going to cover for him. I wasn't going to stand up for him. He had done nothing but snub me, and Russel and 2D too, for that matter. I was about to do the same to him. I was done.

As the police reinforcements ran towards the house, I turned towards the stairway. The officers entered the foyer, ignoring me as they followed the sounds of a scuffle towards the sitting room. I ascended the stairs with heavy steps as the mad ringing in my ears drowned out all other noise. In a haze of dark spite, I retreated to my room, closing the door on Murdoc's outraged shrieks.

. . .

Sounds like Murdoc's in a bit of a pickle! Heh!

Coming Up Next: Noodle processes the evening's events with the help of a friend. Will she regret not interfering as the police tussle with Murdoc? Will she salvage some peace of mind before the evening is over? Was 2D dreaming about cute bunnies before being rudely awakened by the disarray downstairs? Stay tuned to find out!