They didn't have any food.

And Russel didn't mean that in a petulant, exaggerated way. They really, truly didn't have anything in the kitchen that wasn't either alive or too far rotten to even consider consuming.

Now, Russel thought he was a pretty easy guy to please. Give him a set of headphones, a few donuts, and a porny magazine or two and he was good to go for the day.

But this shit just wasn't acceptable.

And it was with this thought in mind that he lumbered down to the car park, pausing briefly to consider the stairs but in the end bypassing them for the lift. He knocked twice on 2D's door, waiting until he heard a quiet "C'min." to pull it open.

2D's slack face was pointed to the TV, controller in hand. Noodle was at his side, chattering out what Russel suspected to be swear words in Japanese and bumping shoulders when she got too excited. Her newly colored hair gleamed a striking fuchsia in the light. Russel paused for a moment at their strangeness, huddled together on 2D's bed like a pair of multicolored aliens.

Then 2D paused the game and turned his wide, gaping eyes towards him, and the moment was broken. Noodle gave him a toothy smile. "Hallo, Russel-san."

"Hey, girl," he replied, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "Listen, D, what the hell happened to all the food?"

2D's face was perfectly innocent, expression wide and sweet and open. Russel crossed out the possibility of it being his fault. That guy couldn't even lie to save Noodle's ass. "Wotcha mean, Russ?"

And he'd forgotten that 2D more or less just didn't eat. "Food, man, we ain't got none. I was only gone a couple of days, where'd it all go?"

"Oh, Murdoc-san had…a, ah, slutah party?" Noodle piped up, tongue twisting around the foreign word. "Many girls here. Very nice. They did my hair for me!" she added happily.

Well, he'd been wondering where she got the dye. It didn't particularly bother him that she'd procured it from a group of strippers; so long as each and every one of them had a vagina it was cool.

"An' they cleared out the fridge?"

She nodded, choppy locks bouncing around her face. "Yes. They didn't seem very interested in Murdoc-san…"

"I wos wonderin' why 'e wos so moody," 2D said blithely. "Prac'ticcly spit all 'oer m' face when a couple came back t' m' room, 'e did."

Russel glanced once at Noodle, and then just gave up. She probably already knew everything she ever possibly could about penises and the people attached to them anyway.

He did rub tiredly at his eyes though; something about the way 2D's oblivious voice mixed with his accent made talking to him somewhat exhausting. "Well look, you guys want anything from the store? 'm gonna go soon as I can get the keys off Mud's nasty ass."

"May I go!" Noodle shot up. "Russel-san, please, please may I accompany you please – " at this point she garbled off into Japanese and Russel had to hold up a hand to silence her.

"Sure, that's cool. Jus' lemme get them keys…"

She sprang off the bed and streaked out the door, heading for Murdoc's Winnebago at breakneck speed. "Murdoc-kun Murdoc-kun Murdoc-kun Murdoc-kun Murdoc-kun – "

It only took about fifteen seconds for the Winnebago door to be kicked open, revealing its owner in all his sickly half-clothed glory. "Satan below, what you little bugger, what?" he snarled, looking down at Noodle like she was something he'd peeled off the bottom of his shoe. Murdoc's moods always took a nosedive around noon; Russel attributed it to the fact that that was roughly the same time he woke up.

She chirped at him cutely. "Keys for store?"

"Don't talk the me in tha' fuckin' gibberish kook – "

"We need to go to the grocery store," Russel rumbled, coming up behind her. "Lemme borrow the Geep."

Murdoc's bloodshot eyes narrowed and some part of his generous expanse of teeth clenched, and Russel knew he was going to be a stubborn dick about it.

"The Geep? Far as I c'n remember it's my Geep."

Russel sighed, a quick, angry exhalation of breath. "Man, can we not do this right now?"

Murdoc's lips pulled back into a sneer. "Fine with me," he drawled, and started to slam the door shut.

Russel's foot just managed to catch it, and damn if that motherfucker wasn't strong for someone who weighed hardly a hundred and seventy pounds. Murdoc grunted a little and shoved, trying to either force the door shut or cut Russel's foot off.

"Shit," Russel growled, heaving against the other man's weight. "What the fuck is your problem, you goddamn cracker bastard – "

Noodle's stomach chose this frenzied moment to let the world know how unhappy it was, releasing an earth-quaking rumble that echoed around the car park. Both men were reduced to stillness.

There was a beat of silence.

Murdoc threw up his hands with an incensed snarl. "I'm driving."

By the time they'd left, Noodle's stomach's dialogue had increased in volume and frequency, and Russel's was starting to join it. 2D meandered over from his room and decided to tag along, and Russel managed to talk Murdoc into putting on a short-sleeved black T-shirt.

Murdoc's driving was probably one of those things Russel was never ever going to appreciate or get used to. Russel could trust them to stay out of any wrecks, because Murdoc was a competent driver, but he still spent the trip in a state of general hysteria. Noodle leaned herself as far over the edge of the door as she could manage, eyes bright and happy and vibrant as the rough ride whipped her around like a rag doll.

She was never getting her own car. Never. Ever. Ever.

They squealed into a parking space sideways, and Russel waited for the car to come down from its two-wheeled balancing act to hiss, unclench his hands from around his seatbelt, and check to see if he'd pissed himself.

The death ride seemed to have lifted Murdoc's spirits, so that by the time he put the Geep into park and stepped out he was actually smiling, and even opened Noodle's door for her.

"All right," Russel said, glancing around nervously. They'd already attracted attention from a small crowd of girlscouts. 2D was looking at them intently, and Russel pictured the mental struggle. Girl Scout cookies come from…girl scouts? Yes? Maybe? Oh the universe and its mysteries. "Okay. Everyone just – just grab a cart and get what you want."

They scattered, with 2D shuffling over to the cereal and Noodle bouncing after their driver to the alcohol aisle, apparently deciding today was Murdoc day. Russel stood for a moment, creating his own mini-blockade with his girth, and then headed over to the produce.

He himself started to feel a little better once he got into the routine of it. At one point two very drunk, very Murdoc-esque men yelled his way to ask him why he was in the salad section, but that only took one dark look and a not-so-subtle flash of the kitchen knife at his belt to take care of. Grumbling a little to himself about jacked up little fuckheads with too much goddamn time on their hands that wasn't already devoted to their shriveled little dicks, Russel tossed a cabbage into his cart and moved on.

He passed through three more aisles without incident, up until the point he caught a flash of black and paused, suspicious.

Murdoc was crouched down by a very curious Noodle, one companionable arm looped around her shoulders. As Russel watched he bent his neck and snickered in her ear. "Now watch 'is, luv."

And it was with a sinking heart that Russel watched 2D walk innocently around the corner, arms full to bursting with ten different kinds of breakfast bars, and immediately slip, hitting the ground with his ass in the air.

It was hard to be heard over Murdoc's resultory hysterics and Noodle's excited shouts of "Again, 2D-kun!", but Russel managed.

"MURDOC!" he thundered, stomping over to them. He slid, almost lost his balance, and had to throw his arms around 2D's head to stay upright. The floor was covered in a slick, clear liquid. Russel felt his temper fly up. "What the fuck is this shit on the floor?"

Murdoc had his arms wrapped around his torso, forehead almost touching the floor in his hilarity. "…soap, lards…careful, don't have a heart attack…"

Russel heaved 2D to his feet by the scruff of his shirt, fuming. He really felt like wrapping one justified hand around Murdoc's greasy little throat, but Noodle was still attached to him, and that just complicated things.

"This is goddamn ridiculous," he raged. "You can't keep pulling this shit every time we go somewhere!"

"An' why not?" Murdoc demanded back, red eye glinting. "'f ya ask me these people should be thanking me for some entertainment." He patted Noodle's shoulder. "Jus' ask Noodle."

"Man you know she's twelve damn years old, you gotta press this shit on her before she can even – "

"2D-kun, your shirt's slimy," Noodle commented happily.

2D looked down at it, plastered wetly to his chest. "Yeah…it is, isn' it?" he said, not sounding particularly bothered by the fact. In fact, now that he was over his initial surprise at his feet suddenly leaving the earth, he looked rather unfazed about the whole situation. He was even smiling a tiny bit, like it was just a goodhearted joke among friends.

Russel resisted the urge to tear out his nonexistent hair in his supreme frustration.

"Where the hell's yo' cart?" he demanded instead.

Murdoc nodded to where it stood abandoned, full of an assortment of sugar cereal, pop tarts, cookies, and tequila. Russel felt another automatic twinge of irritation. They'd all probably just goddamn starve if he didn't enforce his 'real food once a day' rule.

"All right…everyone check out," he grumbled resignedly. "We're done."

"Aw, but I ain't even got to tha fig 'ewtons yet, Russ," 2D started pitifully, but was silenced with a single, blazing look.

"We got some…some…Murdoc-kun, what's the name again?"

"Keebler, luv. With all the elves an' everythin'."

Watching Murdoc and Noodle interact was like watching a schizophrenic pit bull frolicking with a kitten. You never knew whether it wanted to nuzzle it up to its teats or rip it to shreds. Except it wasn't quite as nerve-wracking, because Noodle could reduce Murdoc within an inch of his life without breaking a sweat if she wanted to.

"Keeeeeebler," she repeated, nodding. "Yes. We have some, 2D-kun."

His face brightened like the fucking sun had just come out. "Oh good."

Similarly, watching Noodle and 2D's interaction was somewhat akin to watching a preteen girl half-babysit someone over twice her age. Pathetic.

Russel managed to flag down a store attendant and convince him the floor had been slathered with strategically-placed dishwashing soap before they'd gotten there, and that left them free to cut to the front of the line with a couple flashes of Murdoc's tongue at some middle aged women. Russel paid and they all trudged to the Geep, which was now surrounded by a small crowd of amused spectators, taking pictures of the skid marks with their camera phones.

Russel muscled his way through them and, with a couple of crippling kicks to the shin a la Noodle, they scattered. Their purchases were crammed into every available corner and Murdoc slipped into the driver's seat, clawed hand reaching for the shift.

Russel climbed in after him and wondered when his life had gotten so goddamn complicated.