Hello, I'm back again with another update. And happy new year everyone! I've made a new years resolution to make my chapters longer. This one doesn't count since I started writing it in 2005. :-P

Zombie Blues Chapter 6

Another day of Pain

2D woke up with a splitting headache. It was as though the hands of God were pressing down upon his skull, squeezing until it cracked like an egg. And Murdoc's jet engine snoring wasn't helping either. His body was so dehydrated that if he lost a drop more he'd disintegrate into a pile of dust, and the florescent ceiling lights seemed to burn brighter than magnesium to the vocalist's coal black eyes.

He rolled over and covered his eyes with one arm while he used he free hand to feel his way to the bathroom. He immediately regretted moving because now the sickening nausea that had been lying dormant in the pit of his stomach had been unleashed.

"Uuuurgg….never…drinking…again!"

Every clink of glass against glass was magnified tenfold as 2D crawled though the debris that had accumulated from the previous night of uncontrolled drinking. He began to wonder if death was a better alternative as he reached the toilet and let loose a tsunami of retching. It took a few minutes to compose himself before he felt ready to vomit again.

He leaned over the porcelain breathing deeply. The singer couldn't remember the last time he had ever drank that much. His memories of last night were cloudy but for some strange reason he was sure that he had said something totally stupid that he would be regretting later on. He could only hope that Murdoc was as hung over as he was and the activities of the night before were lost to time.

As he kneeled hunched over the toilet he felt a nudge on his shoulder. He turned his head enough to see that a freshly awoken Murdoc was standing beside him holding out a bottle of water. He accepted it thankfully and sighed in relief as he felt the cool liquid fill his empty stomach. The singer didn't really want to talk because he thought any activity might exacerbate his already delicate state. He winced as Murdoc began to speak, the bassist was either oblivious or simply didn't care that 2D feeling like living death right now.

"I've met nuns who can hold their liquor better than you." He grinned with pointed yellow teeth. Murdoc was looking no better or worse than he usually did which might have cheesed 2D off if he had had the energy to be angry.

"Murdoc." 2D breathed in a barely audible whisper. "Could'ya please talk a bit softa. M'head really hurts."

"Sorry, wozzat? Couldn't quite hear ya mate" Murdoc cupped his ear with his hand and raised his voice. At this point 2D was nearly in tears.

"Pleeease Muds." He looked up at the bassist pleadingly. Murdoc rolled his eyes and stepped away.

"Alright y'sodding pansy. And t'think I was nice enough t'make you breakfast."

He held out two opened cans sloshing the viscous liquid around for 2D to see.

"Which one would y'like, the beans or the tinned spaghetti?"

2D promptly turned his head around to heave what was left of his organs into the toilet.

By noon 2D was feeling a little better. He was no longer spewing like ipecac was in fashion and his painkillers helped numb the pain, but he still wasn't in any condition to run a marathon. He lay in the corner of the room covered in blankets. He found the best thing to do was to keep as still as possible. His mind wandered in and out of a hazy sleep filled with dreams of floating zombie heads and synthesized music. Murdoc was sitting up chain smoking as he flipped though the various out of date magazines. He was currently looking at an article about how the Government was planning on bringing down the Soviet Union; he tossed it over his shoulder and groaned in boredom.

"Don't do anything soon dullard. I might be overwhelmed by the excitement."

2D looked over at him groggily. He wiped some sleep from his eyes as he noticed the cigarette in the Satanists hand. The smoke wafted over and reminded the singer how long it had been since his last one. He reached his hand around to feel his back pocket but was dismayed to find that he hadn't brought any with him. So his eyes turned back to the Satanist as he licked his dry lips hungrily.

"Hey Muds" he croaked.

The bassist's mismatched eyes looked at him in suspicion.

"D'ya think I could maybe have a cig?" He used one of his long fingers to point to the cigarette in Murdoc's hand.

"Let me think, hmm, ummm, hmmmm, no."

The singers face fell, his body was telling him that no wasn't an option. Oh the curses of addiction! He needed a cigarette and he needed one NOW!

"Aw c'mon Muds. I forgot mine, just this once? Please?" He didn't want to beg but desperation was already overwhelming him. Murdoc, happy to see that he had something to hold over 2D took a long drag and puffed smoke rings so that they drifted past the singers head.

"Ahhh, lovely. Probably the best I've ever had. No really!"

2D's mouth hung wide open as he watched lustily while Murdoc took extra care in smoking. He fumbled around until he found his packet of painkillers and waved them at the Satanist.

"I'll trade ya!"

Murdoc folded his arms and looked down his nose at the singers offer.

"It's gonna take a lot more than those to dull the pain in the arse that you are."

2D was a loss. He had no idea what it would take to get Murdoc to give him a cigarette so he slumped his shoulders and looked at the bassist miserably. The older man noticed what a hopeless situation 2D had gotten himself into and cracked a grin as an evil idea entered his mind.

"That's a nice shirt you're wearing" he said as he idly flicked some ash away.

"Wot?" 2D looked down at his shirt. It was pink with a long sleeved undershirt beneath it, hardly something that Murdoc would wear. He looked up at the bassist and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell ya what" He took another drag and slowly exhaled, never losing eye contact with the singer. "I'll give you a cig if you give that to me, deal?"

It took a moment for 2D to register the Satanists bizarre request and he looked back down at his clothes.

"So all I have t'do is give you my shirt and you'll give me a fag?"

Murdoc picked a cigarette out of his packet and twirled it between his fingers tauntingly, so despite his uncertainly 2D pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to the bassist. True to his word, Murdoc handed the cigarette over to 2D's frantic fingers and with a flick of his lighter lit the tobacco filled tube of paper.

The singer sucked on it like it was the very air he breathed and immediately felt calmer. It was only until a few minutes later that all his senses came back to him and he began to really wonder why Murdoc would ask for his shirt. The room certainly felt a lot cooler now that he merely had his white undershirt to cover his chest.

"So um, wot if I need another one?" He asked when he had smoked the cigarette down to the filter.

Murdoc gave a deep laugh that truly terrified the vocalist. "Every time I give you a fag you can give me another piece of your clothing, sounds fair to me."

2D's eyes widened. He studied the Satanist's face to see if he was actually being serious. The wicked glint in Murdoc's eye was answer enough. With a sigh the singer looked down to determine what he was prepared to part with.

"And y'call me a pervert."

By three PM 2D was feeling almost back to normal, his head had cleared and the queasy feeling in his stomach had subsided. He was, however, missing his white undershirt as well as his shoes and socks. To cure their boredom they had started to play a game of chess under Murdoc's suggestion, and to nobody's surprise 2D was losing pitifully.

"Hey Muds, are y'sure you're supposed to get two free turns every time y'take one of me pawns?" 2D scratched his head not quite remembering that particular rule.

"Hey, hey! I didn't make the rules mate." Murdoc's sly grin didn't persuade 2D, but he felt it would just be easier for both of them if he didn't question it.

With a flamboyant flick of the wrist Murdoc bowled 2D's king over with his three queens. "Checkmate! Wanna play again?"

"Nah, I fink that'll be enough f'me, fanks anyway."

Murdoc grabbed a packet of cards and began to shuffle them, "We could play strip poker?"

2D looked down of what remained of his clothing and decided he didn't like his odds. "Hmm, how bout old maid?"

"Ah, who cares?" Said Murdoc, tossing the cards so that they scattered across the floor, "this is bluddy boring. I s'ppose we could get wasted again." He looked at the bottles of alcohol that remained.

2D's stomach lurched at the suggestion. He didn't think he'd be drinking again for a long, long time. He turned on the chair he was sitting on so that he faced the monitors and placed his head on his hand as he stared blankly at them. "Nah, not again f'me. I dun like bein' sick off my face."

"I don't see why you shouldn't," said Murdoc resting his hands behind his head. "You're a load more interestin' when you're drunk."

2D felt a sudden jolt of fear run though his system. What exactly did happen last night? His fear must have been visibly noticeable because Murdoc began to chuckle.

"Wot? Don't remember? Would you like some remindin'?"

"Um, no fanks…"said 2D as he felt the heat rising to his face. Truth be told, he was morbidly curious to know what did transpire the night before. "I bet we jus' had a laugh and passed out. Stop tryin' t'trick me."

"Now 2D, 2D. When have I ever tricked you?"

The singer looked down at his shirtless state and tilted his head up at the bassist with a glare. "You're pretty mean y'know."

The older man put his hands up in defense, "hey now, I have feelings too yeah?" He accompanied this statement with another one of his trademark smirks,

"Dun make me cross Muds, or I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what? Snog me to death?" Murdoc finished 2D's sentence with an air of smugness.

2D didn't quite know how to respond so they sat in silence for a few moments. The singer could swear he heard a cricket chirp. He wasn't sure if he felt anymore awkward in his life, but it seemed as though Murdoc was more amused by the whole situation than embarrassed.

He finally managed to dredge up some words with a cracked voice "I'd never snog you in a million years." He knew he wasn't hiding his embarrassment well; he also wasn't a very good liar. "Now if you'll excuse me." He got up from his seat, walked over to the pile of blankets promptly dropped down and pulled one over his head.

"Hey mate, wot if I told you I woz just kiddin'?"

2D peeked through a fold in his blankets hopefully. "Are you?"

"No, haw haw!"

2D groaned and pulled the blankets back over his head. His did vaguely remember something happening between him and Murdoc that night, but he had shrugged it off as his imagination running away with him. This confirmation rattled him to his core. He never thought he would be so careless to give away his feelings like that.

"S'all right mate" Murdoc began lighting up another cigarette. "You were sloshed off your nugget. I've done worse things, believe me."

The singer felt slightly comforted by these words and looked up at the bassist meekly. "Hey Muds, I woz gonna ask ya. Why weren't you as sick as I woz this mornin'?"

"Hmm? Well, let's just say I've had a lot more practice."

"Oh…" 2D sniffed the smoke from Murdoc's cigarette and felt that familiar craving return. But he wasn't going to part with his pants, especially not now. So he arranged the blankets around him so he was comfortable and sat with his legs crossed. He rested a hand on each knee, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Wot on earth are you doing dullard?"

"Meditatin'."

"Since when do you meditate?"

"I've done it everday, for like, ages" responded 2D. He had found that meditation was an alternative way to sooth his chronic migraines. It was also extremely useful in stressful situations such as this one. So he closed his eyes and let his mind wander into a soft peaceful state of thoughtlessness. He remained like this for about five minutes before he was interrupted by a jolt to his head. He opened an eye to discover that Murdoc had thrown an empty beer can at him."

"Ow, whatcha do that for?" He asked rubbing his temple

"A man has to amuse himself somehow" Shrugged Murdoc showing no remorse.

The vocalist grumbled and returned to his meditation. It wasn't until a few hours later that he opened his eyes again feeling much more refreshed. He looked over to see that Murdoc had gotten himself drunk again. He was passed out snoring loudly while being surrounded by empty bottles and cigarette butts. 2D let out a short puff of relief that he didn't have an irate bass player to contend with for now. He got to his feet and stepped over the motionless body as he made his way over to the television screens.

He pushed some bottles out of the way with his feet so he had room to pull his chair out. As he sat down he became aware of movement on the cameras. His eyes flicked back and forth across the screens to take in all the rooms. Noodle and Russel were sitting in the kitchen eating dinner together, no doubt discussing the whereabouts of their two missing band members. A faint smile crept across 2Ds face as he wished he was sitting with them right now. They really were family to him, he looked at the comatose Murdoc and wondered where he exactly fitted if he was considered family, perhaps a drunken uncle? His thoughts were interrupted when he saw movement in his room again, as he looked closer he saw something strange happening with the air vent. It looked like something small was trying to crawl through. He squinted trying to make out what it was. It was defiantly black; he shuddered hoping that he didn't have a rat problem on his hands. He wasn't that messy.

He let out a short "Oh" of understanding when the mysterious creature finally squeezed through the air vent. In a ruffle of feathers it began to hop around his bed opening and closing it's beak. "Cortez?" He said recognizing Murdoc's pet raven. He was utterly at a loss as to explain why it would come into his room. Usually the bird wouldn't hesitate to peck his eyes out, and it never left Murdoc's Winnebago, except on occasions when it brought back dead rotting animal carcasses.

He watched the bird flutter about his room for a few minutes before it flew over to the door. He looked on amazed as the bird began to jiggle with the lock of the door using its sharp talons, finally it managed to get the door open and flew out in a flurry of squawks. 2D sat back not quite believing what he just saw. "So that's how they got in!" He said to himself. Sure enough not long after the bird had left the room he saw Poly wander in, trying to sniff out the missing vocalist. "Blimey! I'm gonna kill that little dirty rat." He said out loud. He also made a mental note to nail his air vents shut. "They're all against me!" He cried out in dismay when he also saw Vivian the zombie wander in after the polar bear with her eyes wide open and jaw slack in a creepy undead kind of way.

He turned away from the screens feeling quite mad. He had a plan forming in his mind, a rare occurrence for the thick brained singer. He watched Murdoc scratch his crotch and roll over in the pile of rubbish that had collected on the floor.

"Enoy your Zombie while you can." Said 2D maliciously "Coz she won't be round f'much longer." He let out an evil laugh, well, as evil as 2D could manage.

Murdoc shook his head half awoken from his stupor "Huh, what? Did you say somthin'?"

"Uh, nah, sorry. Didn't say a fing." Said 2D sheepishly.

"Oh okay then." The bassist put his head back down and resumed snoring loudly.

BONUS! Since I like you all so very much I'll share with you some random trivia over the origins of my Demon Days album as it's a somewhat interesting story. Early in 2005 I went on a trip to Europe. This trip took me to the Heart of Russia where most of the state is run by organized crime. I did my part for the Russian economy by taking a visit to a secret bootleg cd shop run by the Russian mafia. It was hard to find as the entrance was quite well hidden. It had a big bolted steel door and looked pretty scary. But once you went inside your jaw would drop. There were no windows in this room but there were more cds and dvds than I had ever seen in my life. No kidding! I must have bought about 50 because they were dead cheap. Amongst those albums was my beloved Demon Days cd. I also bought an Emperors new Groove dvd but was unhappy to find out when I got home that it was all dubbed in Russian. Go figure.

So there you go! How many people can say they own a genuine Russian black-market bootleg cd? I actually also had to buy a black-market Discman so I could play it. Those mafia men are a barrel of laughs.