Chapter 3
She's Our Baby Sitter, Not Your Date!
Disclaimer: I hate these. But, I must confess, I own nothing. Not even my own ideas. They're not copyrighted, trademarked, or anything. ...That's not an invitation to steal them, though. By all means, feel free to use anything I come up with, just ask first, or at least give me credit.
Note: Ok, so here we go again. Chapter three. ...At first, I didn't think it was goin' to turn out so well, but I'm pleased with what a wrote. Oh, and, if you find any spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. Microsoft products died on my notebook because the product key on the sticker on the bottom of the notebook was the wrong number, for some reason. So, I'm writing this using NOTEPAD... Yeah, no spell-check. That makes me sad...
If any one can guess how I came up with the baby sitter's name, you will earn undying praise from me and I shall declair your the smartest person evar!!! ...That, or a mind raper. Did I say that out loud? I meant mind reader.
ShoutOut: Thank you soooooooo much to both Glass Case of Emotions and wickedDORK for reviewing. Your reviews made me make a smiley face!
Murdoc, having caught on that the only phone book in the Studios was over a decade old, was currently in front of his laptop, the other Gorillaz surrounding him.
"Well, what d'ya think of her, Muds?" Russel asks, slightly irritated. They had been at this for at least half an hour, and his nerves were wearing thin. All the pot-bellied drummer wanted was someone who had a chance of taking decent care of them, and seemed that all Murdoc was doing was acting like it was a dating site.
"Nah, loo' at 'er!" the bassist complaines, loudly. "'Er nose is awll ben' ou' a shape, an' i's too high up!"
"You nose-y i' funny, too!" Noodle whines, pointing an accusing finger at his face. She had long since grown weary of the no longer arthritic bassist's antics.
"Yeah, I been wond'rin' 'bou' tha'," 2D drolls. "'Ow come I stiwl 'ave blue 'air an' den's in me 'ead if I'm eigh'? An why is Muds' nose bro'e in awl th' same places? Tha' stuff di'n' 'appen 'tiwl la'er."
"I've sai' i' b'fore, an' I'wl say i' again; no' much of wha' 'appens teh us is exac'ly normal, ma'e."
"Oh, awlrigh', then."
"Now, here," Murdoc exclaims, having returned his attention to the computer screen, "Here is a bird tha' I'd agree to!"
"Muds," Russel begins, half confused, half exasperated, "You can tell by both her pi'ture and her self-description that she is, bluntly, a crack-whore."
"Yeah, bu' with a li'le cleanin' up, she'd loo' grea', don' ya thin'?"
"Man, I cannot believe you, sometimes!" Russel snorts.
Noodle then jabs a thin, stubby finger at the computer screen. "I wan' her!" she shouts, slightly startling the boys. "What-u dose her thin' say?"
Murdoc, not wanting to be left out of the spotlight, reads, "'High schoowl graduit loo'in' fer a way to pay for college. Wiwl coo', clean, an' even change nappies. Previous esperience carin' for younger brover an' sis'er. Hope teh hear from someone soon.'"
"Wewl she soun's nice," 2D comments, smilling.
"I agree," Russel anounces.
"Aw, c'mon, she's barely go' anyfin'!" loudly complains Murdoc. "Can' we 'ave this giwrl ins'ea'? She's stacked!"
"I wan her!" Noodle shouts, as if her word was law.
"Wewl, um," 2D begins, nervously, "If we're gonna pi' someone, shoul'n' we awl agree on 'o i's gonna be?"
"Fer once, I'm tellin' ya awl to lis'en to th' dullard!" Murdoc cries. "He's spea'in' sense, a' las'! Now, abou' this li'le beau'y over 'ear..."
"For cryin' ou' loud, Muds, she's our baby sitter, no' your date!" Russel booms, his recent height reduction having no effect on the gravitas of his voice.
"You know wot? FINE. Have yer fla' ches'ed bird!" Murdoc yells, throwing his arms in the air and jumping out of the chair. "You're awl jus' lucky tha' she's go' a grea' face!"
Noodle giggles happily, then wraps her miniscule arms around the tiny bassist. "Arigato, Murdoc-u-Nii!"
2D, with a big smile on his face, asks, "Wha's 'er name?"
"Uh," Russel begins, taking a look at the screen. "Amy. Amy Trae."
Murdoc, having finaly pried the miniature guitarist's hands off of himself, sits back down in the chair and clicks on Amy's picture. "Wewl, Amy, wewl'ome teh Kong," he mutters, typing their request e-mail.
"Woah, there, Caligula," Russel starts, putting a hand on Murdoc's shoulder, "Just what are you typing, there?"
"'The Gorillaz tewl ya teh get your arse down 'ere teh baby si'.' Why, 's a' too blun' fer ya?"
"Nah, that'll work."
Three days later, Amy Trae steped out of the cab and gazed up at the horror/wonder that is Kong Studios. "I wonder what the kids'll be like..." she thought, a smile on her face. Turning back to the cab driver, she asked, "You really can't take me any farther than this? It seems like such a long walk..."
"La'y, this is as far as I'wl go!" he half-shouted, a nervous look on his face. "Jus' give me my money so's I can ge' the fuck ou' of 'ere!"
Amy, now questioning her reasons for being here, ands the man the amount of money she owes him, and he races off as if the devil himself was clawing at his rear windshield. Turning back around and facing Kong once again, she asks herself, "It can't be all that bad during daylight, can it?"
And that's the end of yet another chapter of Young Again! I hope both of my reviewers enjoyed it!
A funny thing that happened while I was typing this; as soon as I typed Murdoc sayin', "Wewl'ome teh Kong," the song Lullaby by The Cure came on while I was listenin' to my playlist. For those who have heard it, you should find that very funny!
And now I ask, REVIEW!!!!! Or I shall send a plague of flying fish to your current place of residence!
...Ok, so I'm lying, but how cool would that be!?