2D groaned in annoyance as he picked up another beer bottle. Sometimes he wondered why he let that freak Murdoc move into his flat. Oh yeah, he needed a drummer. Still, it wasn't really worth it at times. Times like now, when he had to clean up after the slob while he was out doing God knows what. Anything to not help. Maybe he wasn't the cleanest of people-Ok, so maybe clean wasn't really in his vocabulary-but at least his clutter was a little more controlled. Murdoc just flung shit wherever he pleased and got angry when the other man didn't pick it up.
"Shoulda hit you goin' 120. 90 was way too nice," he grumbled, kicking aside some dirty clothes that weren't his. Definitely not touching those. And wait a minute! Those were-
"That filthy bastard!" A certain drummer was going to get it when he got home.
Murdoc stumbled through the door of the small flat around four, still somewhat tipsy from a day of drinking. His plan was to grab a cold one, sprawl on the couch, and stay like that for the rest of the evening. That plan was ruined once he saw 2D looking incredibly pissed.
"What's with you," he said, slurring slightly. 2D pointed to a small bundle of women's clothing articles in front of the sofa. "Okay?"
"I'm very pissed right now, y'know."
"I can see that, faceache... So?"
"Don't 'so' me! You know damn well that those clothes don't belong to either of us. Just what've you been doing while I'm gone?!" 2D was absolutely seething and quickly inventing a new shade of red.
"Heh... Ah ha ha ha ha! It's really more of a question of who." Whether or not the alcohol in Murdoc's system was the cause for his nonchalance at the subject, 2D didn't know. Or care. He'd had just about enough of the other man. Always trashing the place, making him run around and clean up his messes, and, worst of all, apparently throwing the closest thing to sex parties he could have in his home while he was away working. He had 300 hours of community service to do and he did not want to come home to this.
"You... You're sick!" Murdoc merely laughed. "That's it! You're done here! Just get out, will ya?!"
"Oh come on-"
"I mean it! If you don't get your shit together then you can take it all and leave! I'll find a myself a new drummer, I don't need you!" 2D finished his rant and gave Murdoc the most vile glare he could. Murdoc simply stared wide-eyed at the bluenette as he panted and clenched his fists even tighter.
"...Uh... Okay..."
"No. No 'okay.' I mean what I said." 2D's throat was too hoarse to yell anymore, however, he was still going to stand firm. "Start pullin' your weight. I got enough around here to handle, what with the community service and all. The last thing I need is to come home and see this," he waved an arm at the pile of clothes, "lying around the living room. Or worse, seeing the beforehand."
"Alright, alright, I hear ya. It was getting a little messy in here, even for me. I'll start cleaning up after myself, but don't you ever yell at me like you're somethin' special, got it? Try that again and you'll be mopping up your blood." Murdoc finished the threat with a snarl but it didn't do much to the other man aside from making him grunt an agreement and offer his hand.
"You got yourself a deal. Now, no more of this. I swear, let's just form our bloody band and get on with it already. I don't think I can take living alone with you for much longer."
"The feeling's mutual," Murdoc grumbled, shaking his hand.
"Fine. Now if you would please." 2D jerked his head over to Murdoc's clothing mishap and the drummer just sighed and walked over, muttering rude obscenities all the way. The singer/guitarist merely shook his head before heading to his room to have a smoke and enjoy some peace and quiet. There was only so much of Murdoc one could take.
It had been a month since the day 2D and Murdoc first met, not vehicle-to-face but rather in person, and they'd finally started up the tedious task of recruiting band members. They posted ads wherever they could, whether it be a gas station, a pole, or somebody's car (courtesy of Murdoc) and hoped that results would come soon. Murdoc was impatient and was constantly whining about how no one but hippies or wannabes with no talent were the only ones asking so far. Although he wouldn't admit it, 2D was feeling the exact same way. He knew it would be challenging but he never would've thought it'd be this frustrating. Surely there must be someone out there with good talent.
"Well... It's been two weeks, mate."
"Don't remind me," 2D grumbled, face and arms on the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of them.
"There's been absolutely nothing so far."
"I know..."
"Makes you wonder if there's really any talent out there..."
"Will you please shut up?" he snapped, lifting his head and glaring at the other man.
"Hey, don't get cross with me. It's not my fault there's been nothin' but a bunch o' deadbeats so far." Murdoc raised his hands and sprouted his best innocent look. It wasn't very convincing.
"You just love to make others miserable, don't you? We already don't have a real studio, just your set of drums and my guitar, don't make it worse by constantly reminding me that we don't have a band." The bluenette's withered gaze could rival that of someone epically failing their life's goal. It was exactly how he felt right now.
"Well, I'm sure there must be someone." He stood silently for a few moments. "I have an idea."
"What?" 2D asked while sipping his coffee.
"I'll be right back..." The younger man knew that the wicked grin on the drummer's face was all the warning he needed for something bad to come. And if that wasn't enough, there was also that sinister tone of his, the one he only got when he was up to no good. He should have stopped him, he really should've, but by the time he mustered up the energy to do so it was too late. Murdoc was out the door and free to wreak havoc upon the city. 2D snorted at the thought of putting him on a leash.
Three hours later, the sound of 2D's car could be heard as it pulled into the driveway. It was old and couldn't be in any worse shape than it already was, which is why he let Murdoc use it whenever he wanted as long as it didn't interfere with his business. The young man had been lying on the couch-which he had cleaned with everything imaginable after he discovered what the poor thing had went through-when Murdoc came bursting into the room.
"Up, faceache! I need your help."
"What's with you?" He was awfully frantic. Hopefully it didn't involve the police. Again.
"C'mon! Just hurry up!" He was already back outside. Sighing, 2D got up to go see what all the fuss was about. Murdoc was hunched over the trunk trying to lift something that was clearly too heavy for him.
"What's this?" He had a bad feeling.
"Don't worry about it. Just help me get it inside, will ya?" Murdoc still had his arms under the massive crate, eyes wide and darting around as though he suspected being caught red-handed at something.
"Hold on," 2D said, lifting a hand. "Is it drugs?"
"No."
"Deadly animal?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Guns?"
"Not even close." Murdoc was starting to get annoyed.
"Some kind of illegal alien technology that you aren't supposed to have and if we don't get rid of it the government will come after us and try to kill us?"
"..." Murdoc's face was the only answer he needed for that one.
"Okay. I guess it can't be too bad then." With that he walked over to help. The second he started to lift, he knew why Murdoc had had such a hard time. Whatever was in this thing weighed a ton. It was a miracle his car's overworked shocks didn't give. Oh wait, the car wasn't tilted like that before. Ah well.
After much grunting and straining the two men had finally carried the crate into the living room, laying it sideways instead of standing it vertically due to its height. Both fell onto the couch and sighed in relief. "Now that we've got this thing in here," 2D started, "you gonna tell me what it is?" It was actually larger than his coffee table.
"Heh." Murdoc's crooked grin looked very suspicious and he felt a twinge of worry. The older man got up to fetch a crowbar and when he came back he looked 2D dead in the eyes. "Now before I open this," he said, smiling nervously and evilly at the same time, "I want you to know that whatever happens, you're a part of it now and there's no backing out. We're in this together, faceache." 2D gulped. He knew he shouldn't have helped him. Being 'together' with Murdoc in anything meant a whole world of trouble.
Crack
The front of the crate was pried off and then shoved to the floor. "Oi! Open your eyes, faceache." 2D was sitting with his hands over his face, silently praying that it wasn't anything too horrible. "Relax. He ain't gonna bite your head off. Well, he might when he wakes up..." At that the man uncovered his eyes. And then screamed in absolute horror.
"OH SHIT! Murdoc! Did you seriously kid-mmph!" A hand was shoved over his mouth in an attempt to quiet him.
"Keep it down, we don't wanna wake him up. Not yet anyway. And we certainly don't want the neighbors to know," he added slyly.
2D was too busy taking very deep breaths to calm himself down. When he finally did, he turned to look at the man next to him. "Who is this?" He was still on the verge of a panic attack. Inside the crate was a large African-American man who looked like he could crush them both with his bare hands. Good thing he was asleep.
"His name's Russel Hobbs," Murdoc said casually, as if they were in some sort of a meeting with the guy.
"And why is he in a crate? In my living room?"
"Because you helped me." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"No I didn't! I only helped you move the crate in here, not-"
"Exactly! That makes you an accessory." He was grinning madly.
"But I didn't know it was somebody you kidnapped. I thought it might've been music equipment or something." 2D ran a hand down his face. He made a mental note to never, ever help Murdoc with anything he wouldn't tell him about again.
"I don't know why you're so upset. You wanted to form a band, here's your new member."
"What?! I didn't mean for you to kidnap someone! What is wrong with you?" he sighed.
"Listen, mate, I-"
"Ugghhhh..." Both men looked at Murdoc's victim, who was coming to.
"What do we tell him?" Murdoc whispered to 2D.
"We? You mean you. You did this; you tell him," 2D whispered back, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"Where... Where am I?" They stopped bickering instantly. 2D glanced fearfully at Murdoc, who returned the look. The man, Russel, slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. When his mind finally cleared itself of the remaining fog he looked over and saw two men staring at him like deer in headlights.
"Um... Hi." 2D awkwardly raised a hand in a half-hearted attempt at a greeting. Murdoc quickly followed suit.
"Who are you?" Russel asked cautiously, obviously unsure of them.
"I-I'm 2D. My real name's Stuart but everybody calls me 2D. It's cuz my eyes. They uh... yeah, eyes..." His nervous rambling trailed off at the sight of Russel's milky white eyes narrowing in suspicion. He may not be one to say anything on the matter of eyes, but the sight of pure white ones was somehow more unsettling to him than his own or even Murdoc's red one.
"Where am I?" he asked angrily, now that he remembered being kidnapped. "Why did you bring me here?" He stood up and stepped out of the crate before taking one menacing stomp towards the couch 2D and Murdoc were on. The latter was up and ten feet away before 2D even had the chance to squeal at the immense threat before him.
"Don't kill me!" he begged, bringing his lanky arms over his face as if they would protect him from the other man.
"Hold on a second, big guy! Don't squish him, he's fragile!" Murdoc finally decided it was time for him to step in and do something... from the other side of the room.
"What's going on here? Why was I in a crate? It was you, wasn't it? You look like the type of jackass who'd do somethin' like this. C 'mere!" Russel instantly ignored 2D and stormed over to Murdoc, picking him up by his collar.
"I have a perfectly good reason!" he tried, hoping to get out of his death grip.
"I knew I shouldn't have listened to you about the crate!" 2D cried from the couch, knees to his chest and fingers ensnared tightly in his hair.
"Now's not the time for trust issues, faceache!" He meant it. If 2D worked himself up to the point of a migraine then he'd be pummeled to death by the large man before him. Not at all how he wanted to go.
"You got ten seconds," Russel growled in his face.
"I only need five! You wanna be in the most kickass band of the century?" Murdoc asked in his most convincing tone.
There was a long silence before, "Band?! Are you telling me that you knocked me out, kidnapped me, and then brought me here just to be in some band?" Russel was so incredulous that he dropped the drummer to the ground, forgetting about punching him.
"What's so surprising about it?" Now that he was free, talking was no longer limited. "You were at that music festival; everyone said you were exceptional."
"So you kidnap me?" He could feel his eyebrows raising to the ceiling out of pure disbelief.
"Well yeah. Was I supposed to ask you? Think about it," he added quickly as soon as Russel opened his mouth. "Looking at a guy like me, if I'd come up to you and said something like, 'Hey mate. Wanna join a band? I'm the drummer and the only other member is this bloke with no eyes who's a singer and guitarist, but we need more than that so how 'bout it?' would you have really taken me seriously?"
Russel thought about it for a moment while looking him up and down. "No. I would've told you to get away from me, and then called the police. Or an asylum."
"See? Now does it make sense why I had to kidnap you?" As much as he wanted to deny Murdoc's claim, he really couldn't. If the man had approached him back at the festival with an offer like that he certainly would've made a few phone calls. Trapping him here with no other option but to listen really was his best bet. He still felt like he should get in touch with an asylum though.
"Whatever," he said, frustrated. "So... You're a drummer?"
"Yeah," he drawled, somewhat creepily.
"You certainly don't look it."
"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm very good at what I do." He suddenly chuckled and grinned after the statement and Russel changed the subject to avoid any unwanted information.
"And I take it he's the singer you mentioned?" He nodded to 2D, who was still cowering on the couch.
"Yeah, faceache's good, I'll give him that. Voice of an angle, I always say."
"...Right. Is he okay?" Russel could hear quiet whimpering as the bluenette tried to curl in on himself and hold his head even tighter.
"Oh yeah. He's fine. He just does that sometimes." Murdoc waved him off nonchalantly and Russel made a note that if he did ever become involved with these two-which he totally wasn't considering joining their band-he should not rely on the older man for medical assistance.
"He doesn't sound fine," Russel said, walking over and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, which shook lightly under the massive appendage. "Hey, man. You okay?" He was given unintelligible muttering as a response. "What was that?" he asked, leaning closer.
"Need... my pills..."
"Pills?"
"Oh! He gets real bad headaches so he's got a shitload o' painkillers for it. Lucky bastard just gets an endless supply of 'em. Must be nice," Murdoc grumbled. 2D whined again. "Alright, alright. Don't start bawling now, I'll get your pills for you." He left the room and Russel could hear a lot of rattling, banging and cursing before he finally returned with a small orange bottle. "These the right ones?" 2D snatched the bottle and gulped down four pills dry without even reading the label.
"Is he supposed to do that?" Russel asked, shocked, while the young man simply handed the bottle back and uncurled himself a little.
"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," Murdoc muttered absently, deciding to ignore the 'No more than half' warning on the label. He'd try and talk to the bluenette on that issue later. "So what do you say on my offer?"
Russel turned his attention away from 2D to give Murdoc an unimpressed look. "You seriously think I'm gonna join your nonexistent band after you kidnapped me?" Inside, however, the thought was actually a little exciting. Despite how good everyone said he was no one had ever offered him a spot on a band, or anything at all, really. He was 'too scary' because of his eyes and people tended to be a little freaked out by him once they heard his history. These two, however, didn't seem like they'd care in the slightest. It was a small bit of comfort.
"We're not nonexistent," Murdoc said defensively. "Here's me and here's faceache." He gestured to each respectively. "That's two whole members. You'd make three, and then we'd just need one more. What instrument do you play again?" Russel face palmed.
"So you kidnap me to join your band because you heard I was talented, but you never checked to see what instrument I played?" Murdoc shrugged. "I sure hope you're not planning on being the front man," he sighed.
"Are you kidding? If I was the front man people wouldn't be able to handle this band," he said conceitedly. "That'd be too high a level of Murdoc Niccals genius for the fans. They'd go completely insane. No. 2D there's the front man. We had to tone it down a little."
I bet you did, Russel thought humorously. "Well, since you were too stupid to find out, I'll tell you. I play the keyboard." Murdoc instantly began laughing. "And what's so funny about that?" he asked angrily. He'd had enough teasing about how that was girly or stupid, he wasn't gonna take anymore.
"You? Keyboard? Ha ha ha ha! I can't believe it! Do you have them special made or something? There's no way you can play a keyboard with those meatballs of yours! You'd smash the whole thing to bits!" He was laughing so hard that he didn't notice the man close the distance.
"I can do the same thing to your skull," he said, hoisting him up again.
"Murdoc, quit makin' fun of him. He's already pissed you kidnapped him." 2D's migraine had subsided shortly after he downed the pills, he just didn't speak up because he didn't want to ruin their chances of a new band member. Murdoc may have been a snake, but he was better with words. Sometimes.
"You should listen to your friend there." He dropped the drummer to his feet.
"Hey, uh, Russ-I can call ya Russ, right?" The man shrugged. "Well, uh, anyway, I know it's super awkward and weird to be asked like this." He glared at Murdoc as he said this. "But we really need another member. I don't know if you've seen our ads-"
"Those are yours? Who made 'em?"
"Murdoc."
"Figures..."
"Oi! What's wrong with 'em? I worked hard for those." Apparently there was no problem with posting 'Looking for real talent. If you're not a moron, please come see us. Also, NO HIPPIES' all over the town.
"They could use some work," Russel said.
"Told you it was stupid."
"Shut up, you little twerp."
"Anyway, we could really use a keyboardist. I'm a singer and guitarist, and Murdoc's a drummer, but you can't have much of a band with that. You could really help pull everything together and make this more of a band and less of wanting to murder the person standing right next to you."
"I'd like to see you try," Murdoc growled.
Russel looked between them for a minute. It was an honest offer despite the means and he really did want to do something with his music. If these two were willingly accepting him into their newly formed band then who would he be to refuse? Who knows? Maybe, with a few more members and a lot more self control on the drummer's part, they could really skyrocket. "Alright. I'll join," he said, clapping the singer roughly on the shoulder. "Just, no more surprises. I don't wanna wake up one morning and find myself in a briefcase somewhere in Siberia or something."
"Heh. Don't worry, mate. That was only to get you here. No more of that, trust me. It was way too much work." Murdoc's crooked grin didn't hold much comfort, but at least it had enough assurance that he was telling the truth.
"Okay. So you guys got a studio or something?"
"Nope," they said in unison.
"We got my flat, my guitar, a tape recorder, and Murdoc's drums," 2D said, listing each one off on his fingers.
"That's it?" Russel was a little surprised at the lack of equipment for people who wanted to become a band.
"There's a toilet," the bluenette offered.
"He means music equipment, stupid."
"There's Murdoc himself too, if you ever wanna try stepping on him to see what sort o' sound he makes," he said casually, pointing a thumb at the other man. "Personally, I think he'd be like bagpipes. Really loud and grating, y'know? 'Course he's already like-OW!" Murdoc swatted him in the back of the head hard enough for the resounding smack to make Russel flinch.
"That's enough outta you!" he barked. "I'd rather be bagpipes than a sorry-ass pansy, ya twat!" As the two men bickered Russel just sighed and brought a hand to his face. Only time would tell if they'd be successful as a band, but it certainly didn't take long for it to tell that there'd be quite a bit of arguing along the way.
"Do you at least have a name in mind?" he asked, stopping their fighting. Both men looked at each other and then shrugged.
"We haven't really put much thought into it," 2D said.
"We need something that's edgy, y'know? But nothing mainstream. I don't want this band to be like anything else; it has to stand out. Something that people would instantly recognize as us and us alone." Murdoc crossed his arms and racked his brain for a good name.
"Well... There was one name I had in mind before the whole, uh, ram-raid thing," 2D said quietly.
"Ram-raid?" Russel asked, concerned at what these two got themselves into.
"Don't worry about it," Murdoc snapped sharply while subconsciously tracing a finger over his messed up nose. "This was all your idea in the first place, faceache. I'm sure your names are probably stupid compared to mine, but go ahead anyway."
"Um... How about... Gorilla?" He sat waiting for the inevitable rejection he was likely to get. To his surprise, none came.
"That's actually not too bad," Murdoc said approvingly. "It's got a nice little ring to it."
"Feels like it's missing something though," Russel added.
"We'll figure that out later. For now, our name is Gorilla. And we'll be the number one, most badass band on the planet!" the drummer announced. The other two just shared an amused glance. The three of them alone would make the band stand out regardless of their music, but they'd soon find out just how good they could make it.
I hope you guys like this so far. This has been one of my favorite chapters to write because it was just so much fun with Russel's kidnap scene and how 2D and Murdoc have been living with each other. The rest of the story will probably be the same way for me. By the way, if anyone was wondering, at the beginning of the chapter when 2D says he should've been going 120, it was in kilometers, not miles.
