A/N: Ok, so nothing major really happens in this chapter, despite it's length. This is primarily a comedy, so there's a lot of ridiculous nonsense in it, but I'm also using this chap to slowly set up where Noodle will come in. Oh, and be on the lookout for some soon-to-come Paula drama, probably in the next chapter or so.
2D was relieved to make it to his room without another ambush. However, the sight of it was enough to stress him out again. The bed was against the wall adjacent to the door, his TV was pressed into the corner in the far end of the room along with his Atari, there was a dresser, and that was all he could make out. Everything else-everything-was piled high wherever it had landed. His clothes, bedsheets, shoes, keyboards, music sheets, all of it. It was all a mess of randomly stacked items that had no order whatsoever. The singer felt vaguely reminded of how someone once told him that the way a person kept up their room was a direct representation of their psyche. If that was true then it meant that Murdoc was downright psychotic. Not that it was any surprise. He'd known that within five minutes of meeting the man. He groaned and set to work trying to organize the mess.
It took a while. After three to four hours of going through his belongings-he never knew he had so much stuff!-the bluenette finally got everything into some semblance of order. Oh, the room still looked like the kind of mess that only a teenager with a pet tornado could create, but he knew where everything was now. He wouldn't have to dig through the laundry to brandish a pen. His stomach growled angrily at him and he sighed at how time-consuming cleaning his new room had been. Russel mentioned take-out when he first left for his task; the food was probably ice-cold and disgusting by now. His stomach told him it didn't care.
As he stepped out of the door he caught sight of what could only be Murdoc's 'lovely home-on-wheels'. His eyebrows shot up. Spending money on a studio infested with supernatural beings was one thing. At least you had the potential to turn it into something that could make money. A haunted house or something. But to buy a bucket of bolts that somehow still had wheels attached...
"Ain't it beautiful?"
2D jumped back and bumped into the doorframe at the sudden presence of Murdoc. "Don't do that!" he shouted, trying to calm his heart.
"Do what?" the drummer asked innocently. He peeked around the bluenette's shoulder and into his room. "Holy shit, mate. What have you been doing all this time? I thought you were cleaning."
"I'm done," he answered indignantly.
Murdoc just grinned and chuckled at the younger man. "Right. Well. I'm gonna go finish fixing up my love shack. You should-"
2D's stomach chose that exact moment to remind the singer of his hunger.
"-go eat some food," Murdoc finished, still grinning.
2D finally noticed the toolbag hanging off the drummer's shoulder. "Do you even know how to fix a car?"
"Of course!" He toddled off, the weight of the bag swinging awkwardly on his shoulder and making his gait a little unsteady. The singer watched him go with a bemused expression. Ignoring his hunger pains, he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. Murdoc made it to the Winnebago and plopped the bag onto the cement before crouching in front of the vehicle. He stared into the engine compartment.
"You, uh, you have to actually do something," he offered sarcastically, enjoying the rare chance to be in the drummer's shoes.
"I am," Murdoc shot back, glaring. "I'm just thinking. If I mess with this thing here, then this'll blow out." He gestured vaguely at random parts he doubted the singer could even see. "This is delicate work, mate. You can't just go pulling shit out without knowing where it leads." He turned back to the engine with the hope that the younger man would leave so he could kick this thing for refusing to work properly.
"So why don't you fix the part that'll explode first?"
"Dammit, faceache! I can't work with you staring at me! You're makin' me nervous."
"Uh huh." Having had enough of tormenting the man, he turned away and strode off to the stairs so he could get something to eat.
Murdoc waited until the singer's steps stopped echoing off the walls before standing straight and giving the Winnebago a good kick. He cursed and held his leg when the pain jolted through him.
After taking a few wrong turns here and there and nearly stumbling into another crowd of those demon pests, 2D entered the kitchen. He found Russel standing in front of the fridge, wearing a frown. When he spotted the singer, it morphed into an apologetic grimace. "Something wrong?" he questioned.
"Um, yeah..." The keyboardist spared a glance at the appliance before looking back at the bluenette. "I, uh, forgot about the fungus."
"The what?" 2D asked, eyebrows raised. Russel motioned him over to the fridge and he complied, albeit hesitantly. Before he could spout anymore questions the man pulled the door open.
An indigo substance had taken over the entirety of the refrigerator, growing all over the food boxes and even managing to get itself onto the lightbulb. Small, multicolored specks of... something... were scattered throughout it. There were even a few branches of what looked like coral growing out of it. If the sight alone wasn't disgusting enough, the sickly smell that wafted out-coupled with the smell of rotten Chinese food-made the singer's stomach flip.
"Close the door!" he shouted, already backpedaling to the nearest trashcan. Having not eaten for some hours, he had nothing to come up and instead just dry heaved into the bin. He stopped coughing and lifted his head up to find Russel gagging as well and-amazingly-tinted slightly green.
"Shit, man, it wasn't that bad before," he said, fanning the air. "When I first found it, it was just a tiny blob sittin' on a plate. It almost seemed like it was moving but before I could really do anything about it, you screamed from that demon attack. I forgot all about it when I set your order in there. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This is all Murdoc's fault anyway." He wiped some spit off his mouth with his sleeve. "What is that stuff?"
"I thought it was just a harmless fungus or mold or somethin'. I ain't so sure now. What was a saucer-sized puddle o' goop just took over our fridge."
"Mate, that's not just taken over. That thing just formed its own ecosystem in there. Murdoc owes us a fridge. And dinner." He walked over to the sink for some water, glanced at the ruined appliance, looked back at the dirty faucet and changed his mind.
"Where you goin'?" Russel asked his retreating form.
"I'm thirsty and we both know that Muds has at least twelve cases of beer with him. Want one?"
'Yeah, sure." He debated something. Shooting a worried glance at the fridge, he said, "You know what? I think I'll come with you."
The two of them walked away, ignoring the muffled sound of something breaking.
"Yo, Muds!"
Murdoc jolted back with a shout and accidentally ripped out a piece of tubing. Fluid drained out of where it had been connected. Staring at the mess in disbelief, he turned his frustration on his bandmates. "Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Can't you see I'm busy? Now look at what you've done."
Russel raised an eyebrow while 2D took in the scattered parts and tools that lay around the Winnebago in no semblance of order. He snickered.
"Laugh it up, faceache. I'll have you know that I was almost done until you twats showed up and made me pull out this radiator hose." He held up the object.
"Pretty sure that wouldn't spray out oil, man," Russel pointed out, nodding at the growing puddle.
"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure you need that," 2D added, gesturing at the disconnected battery, "inside the engine for it to actually work right."
The drummer glanced behind himself before turning back to the singer. He slapped him with the hose. "Did I ask you how cars work?"
2D held his head and shot a deadly glare at the man. He wiped some of the oil off his face as best he could before speaking. "No, you didn't. Just like how you didn't ask what sort of place we should get."
Russel saw the way Murdoc's eyes sparked and stepped in the middle. "Hey, hey, hey. We ain't doin' this no more, remember? 2D, layoff that. Muds, don't be a bitch."
"I'm not-"
"2D and I are just here for a drink."
"And who says I have to give you any? Go buy your own." He scowled at the singer before crouching down to try and reattach the hose.
"We would," the bluenette began, folding his arms, "but there's kind of a problem with the fridge."
"I ain't your handyman, faceache. Go find a phonebook."
"Muds, we got more than zombies or demons here," Russel said. He watched the drummer freeze before looking at them, clearly intrigued.
"Go on," he said, forgetting about the mess he was currently hovering in.
"There's some kinda mold growing in the fridge. It-"
"Are you for real, mate?" he laughed, standing straight and slapping the front of the Winnebago. "The demons, I can see. The zombies ain't exactly a walk in the park either. Well, unless you're faceache here. But mold? Even the bats are more threatening than that." He continued to laugh while 2D and Russel shared a knowing look.
Murdoc paled as he shut the refrigerator's door, the squelching sound it made as he did so only making him feel sicker. He'd seen a lot of things in his life-and he was certainly going to see much more soon-but this one, so far, took the cake and ate it too. He was thankful that the damage the singer had done to his nose had dampened his sense of smell a bit. Judging by the sick looks of the other two, this thing's bark was worse than its bite.
"So, uh, who's up for a trip to the store?" he asked nervously, swallowing down the bile.
"How about we just go to a bar instead?" 2D suggested, leaning over his new favorite trashcan.
"Muds, face it," Russel said from the other end of the room. "We've gotta do something about this. We can always keep the zombies and shit out but we have to get rid of the demons and killer fungus. We can't stay here if we have to worry about being assaulted or liquified in our sleep, man."
As though it were summoned by Russel's words, one of the little pests skittered down the wall and jumped at 2D, landing atop his head. The singer let out a scream and jumped back, smacking wildly at it. The thing dodged every blow, letting him strike himself, before climbing down his back and bounding out of the room. It let out what sounded suspiciously like laughter as the young man lost his balance and fell into a chair, knocking it over with him.
Murdoc found himself agreeing with Russel, despite how much he loved to harass the singer. He could tell the younger man was rapidly reaching his wits' end and he didn't want to risk losing such a valuable asset. Not to mention, those little shits were getting on his nerves too. He was sure that by now he was missing the remainder of his tools and beer. Those things could be downright relentless.
"Alright," the drummer eventually said, watching 2D swat at invisible sensations on his arm while Russel looked on in concern. "Let's make our first order of business finding an exterminator to rid us of these ornery little bastards."
"You mean you don't wanna do it yourself?" the singer asked, peeling off the bandages that had come loose.
"No. That's way too much work. And with how many of them there are, we'd be too outmatched. I mean, I know what I'm doing, but you two would just slow me down."
"Right. Well, Muds, we'll leave you to it then." 2D waved before heading in the direction of the front entrance, Russel in tow.
"Wait just a minute! Where do you think you're going?"
"Fridge shopping," the keyboardist replied. "We don't wanna get in your way."
"Yeah, mate. Besides, you're the one with all the money. Somebody has to pay the exterminator."
They were gone before Murdoc could come up with a decent retort. A crash sounded from down the hall. "For fuck's sake!" he cried, trying to remember where he'd put the phonebook.
A/N: I don't know if anyone will get the reference with the fridge, but the moral of that story is never forget about what you've left in there. Especially if you live in a demon-infested, supernatural and zombie filled studio. Or space. ;)
