Ballerina
by Rocku
Tears and pink marigold dreams
For the girl struggling in between
The sun is made to turn around
It lights the stage for her
"ballerina" - OLIVIA Lufkin
>>>
"Ima' need a word wit' you." Murdoc pointed a finger at 2-D and motioned for him to come closer. Murdoc was standing next to the geep, and 2-D in the doorway to his bedroom. The blue-haired brainache stretched his joints and arched his back like a cat, yawning in the process. Murdoc heard various pops and cracks, and cringed. He hated when 2-D did that.
"Awright, but make it quick, eh? Space Invader Monkeys is on in... hey! Wait a tick..."
Murdoc took 2-D by the hair and dragged him into the Winne. He locked the door with his free hand while 2-D violently pushed away from the older man. He stumbled to a mirror on the wall and began fixing his hair.
"You ruin'd it is wot you did..."
"Listen, I need to talk to you about... ah, Christ almighty!" Murdoc began feverishly wiping his hand on his pants. "Ou' needs that much jelly for they 'air! Honestly!"
"Well, 'ow else am I gonna git it to stand op like this?"
"... mighty Lord, it's everywhere!" Murdoc ran into the bathroom and washed his hands and his arms. He came out drying himself with a towel, 2-D still perfecting his hair in the mirror. Murdoc threw the towel to the floor.
"Sit down 'ere..." Murdoc pointed to a spot on the lopsided and stained couch.
2-D was busy with a single strand, trying to decide which side it would look better on. When he thought it looked alright, he smoothed it down with his hand and then stepped back to examine his work. He turned to the right, then the left, then...
"Fuckin' get over 'ere butt-monkey..."
"I'm not sittin' there..."
"Bloody homo..." Murdoc picked the towel up and put it over the spot where 2-D was going to sit. "There! Is clean!"
2-D cautiously made his way over to the couch and sat down on the towel. He put his hands in his lap so as not to dirty them on anything else. When Murdoc was certain that he had the singer's attention, or as much as 2-D was capable of, he began.
"Do you remember if Noodle-girl made a copy of tha key to my Winne?"
"Muds, thanks to tha pills I pop, I can't remember what happen'd five minutes ago..."
"Well try! Or would I have more luck talkin' ta Russ?"
"Go wit' Russ. 'E knows Noodle better than any ov os..."
>>>
Russell had his video game turned up all the way, and Murdoc could clearly hear it blasting through the door as he walked down the hallway to the drummer's bedroom. When he got to the entrance, he knocked as hard and as loud as he could so as to be heard. He noticed the volume lower and heard (or felt) Russell's heavy footsteps walking toward him. Soon, the bedroom door swung open and there in front of him was the mighty ox.
"What?"
"'Ello Russ ol' chum! Mind if I come in?"
"Well actually..." Too late. Murdoc had already squeezed past the drummer's awesome girth and made his way into the sleeping quarter. Russ sighed and closed the door. He joined a transfixed Murdoc starring at the T.V. screen. The title of the game was flashing.
"Hey! This 'ere is Noodle's favorite game. Did'ja know?"
"Shit dawg, how 'dya think she got as good as she is at playing it? I taught her all the moves."
Murdoc crossed his arms, "Speaking of Noodle..."
"Look man, whateva' she did, it ain't my problem. I can't be watchin' her 24/7."
Murdoc smirked. Contrary to popular belief, Russ and him were very good friends. They both were quick with their comebacks and words, and Murdoc liked having someone around that he would consider an equal to him, or a worthy opponent. Their relationship was never strained or awkward, it was always comfortable. Murdoc thought about why this might be, and he finally came to the conclusion that it was because they were so similar.
"No, no..." he shook his head. "Is' nothin' like that, I was jus' curious as to 'ow she would get into me Winne. Ya know?"
"Um, maybe she walked through the door..."
Murdoc frowned. "That's not wha' I meant. I always leave tha door locked."
"You're lookin' way to into it. An' you know I can't ask her, she wouldn't understand."
Murdoc got a wicked glint in his eye. "Yeah, but I know someone who will..." He starred at Russell's forehead. Russell, finally getting what Muds was going for, slouched his shoulders and let out a sigh.
"Shit."
>>>
"Noodle!"
"Del! How are you?" She jumped on him in a big hug, obviously excited to see him. He hadn't come out in a few days. Del smiled as he put Noodle back on the floor. Every word that came out of her sounded like English to him, and vis versa. There were some benefits to being dead.
"Noodle, I have something to ask you."
"Shoot." Noodle began walking down the corridor to the kitchen, Del floating next to her all the while.
"How did'ja get into Murdoc's Winnebago?"
Noodle, without even looking up at him, reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver object.
"Copied the key."
"Ah. Well, see ya."
"Wait, don't you want..." She turned around, but the blue ghost had disappeared through one of the many walls. The corridor was still cold from his presence, but it was slowly dispersing.
Noodle shrugged, walked through the kitchen door, and then she too disappeared from the hall.
>>>
"Pay up, mutha fucka!"
"Well, which is it? 'Owed she get in?"
"She copied the key now make with the porno!"
Murdoc grumbled and reached into a plastic bag on the floor. He pulled out two candy bars, a pack of cigs, and three porno mags. He handed them to Del.
"Now that's what I'm talkin' about..." Del took his prizes and floated out of the room. "Pleasure doing business with ya!"
Murdoc threw the empty plastic bag in the garbage and proceeded to pace up and down Russell's room. Russell, bored with the situation, was sitting in his big, comfy chair, his whole body slouched and his head in his hands.
"So she copied tha key... I tell ya Russ, that kids got guts..."
"She probably didn't know what she was doing..." said Russ, for lack of anything better.
Murdoc scrunched his face up, his eyes toward the floor in thought. "She's smarter than we let 'er on to be."
"Whatever. As interesting as this is, I think it's time for you to go..."
>>>
Murdoc emptied his bladder over the toilet, his eyes busy scrutinizing the wall in front of him. There were cracks where bugs would scurry in and out of, and it obviously needed more paint. Not to him. He liked the look of chipped paint. Russ, however, didn't. 2-D wouldn't know either way. Murdoc laughed, thinking about creating a special needs program in Kong, something that 2-D would benefit from greatly.
To Murdoc, bathroom time was thinking time. He could ponder the events of the day alone in his own... cubical, of sorts. Today, however, he was doing his best to avoid thinking about the one thing he probably should have been.
Noodle.
She would dance in and out of his thoughts often, but that was all it was. He would never dwell on her longer than that. Not that he didn't care about her. He did. She was his little angle. It was that simple, so there was really nothing else to think about.
Recently, he was disturbed at how often she would stay and linger in his head. Now, standing over the toilet, he did his best to redirect his thoughts from her.
I should give 2-D my shirt that got ripped. He wouldn't care if it was ripped, hell, he probably wouldn't even notice... that fuckin' little... Russ would, then he would ask 2-D why he was wearing a ripped shirt. Then it would all come back to me. Noodle would think it funny though...
He zipped up quickly and then walked out of the stall. He walked over to the sinks and held his hands under the running water. He never washed them. He didn't know what he was doing.
His strides were long and quick upon entering the kitchen. Why the kitchen? It was a room, which meant you had some place to be. He was surprised to find the whole gang in there. It gave him a quick tap on the inside when they were all able to be together like this, even if it was only for a few seconds, and even if they would have preferred not to have his company.
He immediately went for Noodle, who was laying under the table in her usual spot, and dragged her out by her skinny ankles. He threw her over his shoulder so that her rump was in the hair and began to pace back and forth in the said area.
"Alright then, which one o' you blokes ordered a sack of potatoes?" He set Noodle down on the table, as if she were a bundle of food, and then began opening an imaginary letter and holding his hands out as if there were a piece of paper in them. His eyes scanned the imaginary text. "It says here it's an order for Mr. Tusspot. But that's strange... Dullard never gets any mail."
"Ooooo..." Russell's voice came from the window, letting 2D know how served he really was. Hi eyes were focused on a luminous figure hovering over their garbage cans, picking out the most disgusting food it could find. The light from the sunset tinted it's green skin a bright orange. Russell lifted up a rifle, "c'mere you sonuva bitch..."
"Does anyone know why 2D doesn't get any mail?" Murdoc eyed the brainache and watched him dangle his feet over the counter. He closed his eyes and began to rub them with his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed them so hard Murdoc thought his eyeballs might roll back into his head. Well, if they hadn't already.
"...is it cause I don' have any fri..."
"'Cause you don' have any friends! Wooo!" Murdoc clapped his hands and started to do an embarrassing dance around the kitchen, but 2D and Russell didn't seem to notice. Either that or they were just so used to it. Noodle, on the other hand, her body was jiggling on the kitchen table from laughing so hard. "Wooo!" She imitated him. She then got up and started dancing with him, but her idea of dancing was throwing her hands up in the air and slipping on the linoleum floor. In fact, the only dancing she could do was on her tippy toes.
>>>
Murdoc couldn't remember falling asleep on the couch. In fact, he could specifically remember walking through the car park to his Winne... but of course how could've just dreamt it. While he was on the couch. He woke up at two in the morning to a big, moon shaped face starring at him. He was surprised at how it didn't startle him. He mearly sat up and threw his legs over the edge. With a cushion of the couch unoccupied, Noodle sat down next to Murdoc. The bassist waited a moment before speaking up, his eyes on the floor.
"What's wrong?"
"No shiting." Noodle held her stomach.
Murdoc counted the cracks in the floor boards before sighing and walking into the kitchen. Noodle followed. He opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of laxative.
He opened the cap and pour a small amount into the cap. He was about to hand it to her, but then though against it and instead held it out of her reach.
"Now you listen... look at me right now."
She did.
"You been havin' an awful lot of this stuff recently. You're gonna get addicted. This is the last time. Ya hear me? LAST TIME."
Noodle's bottom lip quivered and she shook her head.
"LAST TIME." He handed her the cap. She drank it and then gave it back to him. He rather have her sick from a stomach ache than become a lax junkie.
He walked back to the couch and then curled up on it. She hovered over him for a few moments before pacing up and down the room. He heard her footsteps get faster until she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. After a few moments he heard the toilet flush and her walk out. Without a moment's hesitation she had crawled onto his back and found a comfy position.
"Uuugh..." He growled into his pillow. He was all for hanging out with Noodle, but it was bedtime, goddamnit!
"Murdoc, why red eyes?"
"EYE."
"Why red eye?"
He sighed, and thought of how he could explain it to her so that she'd understand. He took his eye out and then handed it to her. At first she wouldn't take it, he thought, maybe because she was startled. But she soon realized it was plastic and took it in her little hand, examining it.
"You know how parents always say 'I's all fun an' games until somebody loses an eye?' Hmmm? How you shou' never play sword fighting with large sticks you fin' in the yard?"
She didn't answer, so he assumed she didn't understand. He answered his own question.
"Well, damnit, you better listen to them."