Settling down in the chair next to Stuart's bed, Murdoc watches the singer neatening his blankets and fussing with his pillow for a while. Before he finally loses his temper because of how long it's taking the younger man to get comfortable. Standing up and reaching out his hand slowly. The bassist ignores the way that Stuart flinches away instinctively. Instead he smiles pleasantly and gestures at him to the pillow, then waits while the singer nervously looks first at him then back at it. Not sure why he wants it, Stuart slides it from behind him and with an anxious smile he hands the pillow over. Taking it gently and turning back around to face the chair. Murdoc places the book in his other hand down on the seat, then turns back to Stuart and takes a deep breath.
"Just. Get. Comfortable. Will you!" he shouts as he hits the singer around the head and shoulders with the pillow. Curling away from the attack Stuart grits his teeth and covers his head with his arms for protection.
"Okay okay. You can stop hitting me now!" he squeaks in protest. The bassist finally stops and calmly holds it out for him to take back. Uncurling from his protective ball and seeing this. The younger man purses his lips angrily and takes it from him. "Thank you," he grunts icily, then slipping it behind him he slumps back against it gruffly.
"Okay kiddies. Faceache is still having sleeping problems. Although I did suggest I could fix the problem by simply punching him in the head a few times. He had a little tear and said that he'd prefer a story instead. So, here's one about another pussy with sleeping problems. The idiot princess and her pea." Murdoc purrs throatily and retakes his seat by the bed.
"Eww," the younger man grunts, wrinkling his nose with disgust and pulling away from him.
"Eww?" Murdoc remarks quizzically with an unseen raised eyebrow. "What do you mean eww? You don't want me to read this one?" he asks, holding the storybook up and pointing to the title.
"No," the younger man replies with a shake of his head. "Not if it's about some girl going to the toilet," he adds and folds his arms over his chest, looking over at the small porthole window. Staring hard at the singer in utter disbelief that the guy is actually going to be this fussy today. He slowly works it around in his head until he draws a rather odd conclusion.
"The green kind you dolt!" he snarls, thinking that perhaps he's misinterpreted what he'd said before.
"Eww!" the singer drawls loudly and poking out his. Becoming even more disgusted, by the prospect of listening to a story that only a gynaecologist could ever find entertaining and hoping that it doesn't come with pictures. Simply because he knows that Murdoc will make a point of showing them to him until he throws up. "Infected bladder problems? No no no. I want another one what doesn't have horrible health problems attached to it," he insists firmly. Staring at the guy incredulously with his mouth slightly agape. Murdoc snaps his teeth together with an audible click and leans closer to him, watching him pull away.
"You're a horrible health problem," he growls coldly. "A pea, as in a pea!" he then snaps and sits back. Still not quite catching on to the significance, Stuart grits his teeth and slumps his shoulders.
"I heard yah the first time!" he snaps back, checking with a slight sideways glance to be sure that that doesn't get him a slap on the ear. Giving up trying to tell him. Murdoc stands and leaves the room for a moment. Coming back with a bag of frozen peas and tossing it hard at the younger man's head.
"A pea!" he roars in frustration. Huffing furiously through his nostrils and balling his hands so tightly into fists that he nearly punctures his palms with his nails. Looking down at the bag in his lap and blushing with embarrassment. Stuart grins awkwardly and cringes down into himself, sliding the bag from his lap and gently placing it on the side table.
"Oh sorry." Deciding to get the story over and done with the bassist once again returns to his seat, giving the hunched figure a single snide snort then opening the book.
"Idiot. Anyway, there was once this dumb arsed prince. Kind of like this dolt here." Sitting up brightly and not quite catching the significance. Stuart shyly dips his head to his shoulder thinking that the bassist has just been nice to him.
"Aww, thanks Muds," he purrs happily. Becoming even more annoyed with him, the bassist snaps his head forwards, almost like a crocodile snapping it's jaws shut.
"Shut up, or I'll shove that bag somewhere you really won't like it." With a squeak of fear, Stuart hides under his blanket.
"No, it's okay. Shutting up now." Rolling his eye and giving up, Murdoc sits back again and turns to the first page.
"Okay. Now this dumb arsed prince wanted a dumb arsed princess, as they do. So he went to lots of pubs, bars and brothels looking fer one. Now the brothels were a good idea and he had a bit of fun checking out the ladies there. And he took his time doing it too. But apart from making his wallet a heck of a lot lighter, he never really got anywhere with 'em. HA! The pillock." He shakes his head in a mix of incredulous disbelief. "And like the dumb arse that he was, he blamed them fer it and said they weren't good enough. Oh, so it wasn't because you were ugly or anything, right? Stupid princes. I hate this story already and I haven't even started."
"Maybe he should have tried speed dating or something?" Stuart suggests as he slowly re-emerges from under the bedclothes.
"Maybe I should try gluing your elbow to your ear?" Murdoc grunts back with a cold look up from the page. Furrowing his brow and looking at his elbow. Stuart lifts it and tries to make it touch his ear to see if it's at all possible to do that without the glue. "Heh heh, that'll keep him busy. So there were lots of princesses, but he was a fussy prick. Eh, still like this idiot." He watches the younger man who is still trying to make his elbow touch his ear.
"Ow," Stuart grunts when his shoulder cracks under the pressure. But he continues trying anyway. Ignoring this, Murdoc continues.
"And he wasn't sure they really were what they said they were. Yep, you tend to hear the same story when you ask if they've had any work done too." Adopting a nasally high pitched voice, he mimics being one of them while batting his eyelids. "Oh no, they're real." Waving that off in disgust, he reads on. "So giving up, because he got sick of fake hair teeth and boobs, he came home. Pfft, if you want a real woman, then you'll have to catch them the moment they pop from the womb. It's the only way to be absolutely sure these days mate." He nods at the picture of the prince in the book.
"Muds?" the singers voice calls softly. Closing his eyes with a soft sharp breath of frustration. Murdoc grits his teeth hard.
"What!?" he snaps in reply and looks up from the page. Only to see that 2D has slipped down between the gap between the wall and the bed and has landed upside down on the floor with only his legs poking out above the mattress.
"I have such a cramp right now." Stuart groans softly. "Owww."
"Oh fer..." Not in any kind of charitable mood, the bassist snorts at him. "Well you'll just have to stay there, because I'm trying to read the kids a story. Now shut. Up!"
"Okay," Stuart whispers softly in disappointment.
"So there was this terrible storm and some idiot was outside the palace banging on the gate. Because the butler was off for the night, the king wandered out in his booty pyjamas. "Who the fuck is banging on my door at this time of night?" he asks."
"T'is I the queen. You've left your back flap open again." Stuart jokes with an unseen grin, hoping to soften the bassist's mood because he's in a very vulnerable position at the moment. Murdoc blinks his eyes rapidly while processing that, then bursts out laughing. Smiling and waggling his feet because his plan worked perfectly. Stuart listens to Murdoc laughing his brains out and sighs in relief.
"Ahhhh, you're an idiot. So he opens the door and sees that there's this wet chick standing outside in the rain, sneezing and farting and shit."
"Maybe she had typhoid?" the younger man suggests with a slight shrug.
"Probably?" Murdoc nods back. "I am a dumb arsed princess and my limo broke down up the road. Here, have a chihuahua." she says and waltzes inside. Now the queen is standing there-"
"Holding the kings back flap closed." Stuart interjects quickly to keep the mood light. Murdoc sniggers at that and hunches over, trying not to laugh at the image that is floating around in his head.
"...And she... Oh Christ." Unable to contain it, he laughs again. "And she takes one look at this bird and says to herself. "Bloody Paris Hilton and her dumb arsed midget dog fetish. Princess my bum." So she races upstairs and rips the spare bed apart, puts a pea on the mattress, then shoves twenty other mattresses on top of it and just to be sure, twenty feather ones as well. What a tool."
"Where'd she get all the mattresses from Muds?"
"Um, Harrods." Murdoc shrugs. "Anyway, the dumb arsed princess walks in and sees this bed tower and looks at the queen sniggering in the corner and says, "Oi, how the fuck do I get up there?" The queen shrugs and says, "Climb yah bitch." Then bogs off. So the dumb arsed princess climbs up and goes to sleep. The next morning the queen asks Paris how she slept and she says, "Oh it was awful. I had something digging into my back all night." The queen shoots an accusatory look at the dumb arsed prince. But he says that he never went anywhere near her. So they realise she must be a dumb arsed princess after all, because she could feel the pea. So the dumb arsed prince says, "Oh cool. We can get married now right?" But Paris takes one look at him and says, "Fuck no. You're so not hot and I have my pretend career to consider. But you can keep the chihuahua. Tah tah." Then she racks off, falls off a cliff and gets eaten by a troll on the way to some party or some shit."
"So what happened to the pea?" the singer asks softly.
"It got a job in the porn industry as a fluffer." Murdoc replies, closing the book.
"Oh," Stuart grunts, finally making another attempt to free himself. "I could never do that job." he adds and wrinkles nose in disgust, just as he manages to get himself loose and finally falls over. "Ow."
"I don't see why not. You must have had plenty of practice by now?"
"What?" Sitting up he peers at the bassist over the mattress and slits his eyes at him suspiciously.
"Well what else could you possibly be doing down there in the bowels of the island?" Murdoc snarls back, getting to his feet and lighting up a cigarette. "Anyway, go to sleep," he adds, waving him off while walking to the singer's door.
"Okay," Stuart sighs sadly, climbing out of the gap. Suddenly something occurs to him and he looks back over at the bassist who is about to step from the room. "Hey. I have my donk to play with."
"I don't care what you call it. It's wrong and if you keep doing it, then you'll go blind. Now will you go to sleep!" Murdoc snarls angrily and slams the door.