Okay, another chapter. I still have an essay to write by I thought I'd rather do this instead. I'm really going to go far in life. Enjoy!

2D awoke to the sensation of water being flicked across his face. He groaned and used his elbows to position himself upright. He looked up to see two bloodshot eyes staring straight back at him.

"Ahhh!" He screamed nearly passing out again at the shock.

"Christ dullard, don't lose it again. It's not like I have a limitless supply of holy water."

2D saw that the man kneeling over him had a golden chalice in one hand which appeared to be nearly empty. His mind was still in too much of a cloudy daze to fully comprehend what he was seeing. The man indeed appeared to be the late Murdoc Niccals, however he was different somehow. He was wearing strange white clothes and was looking somewhat… cleaner. 2D scooted backwards and pointed a trembling finger at the man.

"This is a dream! It has to be! I mean… you're supposed to be dead aren't you? You're lookin' pretty good for a dead person."

"Oh yeah" Murdoc said scratching his nose. He sat himself back down on the edge of 2D's bed. "I was dead, but I'm better now."

"Oh…well um… that's great?'

"Of course I'm dead you moron!" Yelled Murdoc throwing a pillow at 2D's face. "Don't you know a divine vision when you see one?"

"Divine vision?" Repeated 2D not quite grasping what Murdoc was telling him.

"I'm a holy vision sent down from the heavens to show you the path to salvation and enlightenment. Jesus! Honestly, would you like me to give you a PowerPoint presentation?" Murdoc gave an almighty sigh and adjusted his hat. "Well, actually, that's just what I told Vatican faculty to give me a chance to get down here. Some wanker screwed up some soul records or whatever, thought I was Pope John Paul. So now I'm a fucking pope stuck up in goody two shoes land."

"W-wait" Stuttered 2D who still hadn't recovered from the sudden appearance of a man who he had seen dead a mere three days ago. "You're a pope? I never knew that. Oh, and you really shouldn't bother trying to convert me. I'm Buddhist y'know."

"I'm not a pope!" Cried Murdoc in frustration. "And that's not why I'm here! I wouldn't give a rat if you were a kitten eating occultist." He leaned closer to 2D and pointed a bony finger at him. 2D noted that his fingers were now nicely manicured. "I came to visit you for a very specific reason…" After this cryptic statement he proceeded to produce a cigarette from out of his robes and flicked it alight with a snap of his fingers.

There was a long pause where Murdoc just sat and smoked on 2D's bed. 2D wasn't entirely sure what to do in a situation like this. Perhaps this was all a hallucination brought on by overwhelming grief - albeit a very, very vivid hallucination.

"You know there's a non smoking policy up in heaven. It's goddam hell."

"If what you're saying is true, you're not being very professional."

"Shaddup!"

2D used this moment to fully observe Murdoc and determine whether it was just a realistic hallucination. He had never in his life seen him look so healthy and radiant. It was as though his very skin was giving off light which gave him a very regal aura. His clothes were so white they were beginning to hurt 2D's eyes if he looked at them for too long. He didn't want to say it to Murdoc, but dying seemed to have been one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

"You know," began Murdoc as he flicked away the last of the ashes, "it's not all a total pile of a festering compost circumstance. I do get a few cool tricks that come with the job. Check this out!"

He held out the chalice he had used earlier at an arms length. He then flicked the tip of the cup with the confidence of a magician, and to 2D's amazement it suddenly filled with a swirling crimson liquid.

"Finest wine in all of eternity." He raised the cup and drained the contents in one swallow before throwing the empty vessel over his shoulder. "Still prefer beer though." He added as an afterthought and belched loudly.

"Poor Pope John Paul must've been surprised about where he ended up."

"Oh, yes, poor John Paul. Let's all feel sorry for the pope." Said Murdoc sarcastically. "Just for that I'm going to use my pope powers on you."

He waved his arm in a circular motion at 2D. 2D immediately felt a strange burning sensation on the palms of his hands. He looked at them and was horrified to discover that they were both bleeding profusely.

"Ahh!" He screamed. "Murdoc! What is this?"

"That lovely bit of work is stigmata and one of my personal favourite abilities if I do say so myself. Oh stop screaming you pansy, honestly! Y'know that's a rare phenomenon? Some people would kill just to have the privilege, so be grateful!"

2D held his hands out and had his eyes closed shut so he didn't have to look at them. He never was very strong around the sight of blood. It had begun to dribble down his arms and drip onto the carpet. "Fix it!" He whimpered.

"Fine! Jesus you're such a baby."

2D felt that Murdoc was enjoying himself a little too much, but true to his word the bleeding did stop, leaving only a tingling sensation and dried blood as evidence of what had happened. 2D rubbed his palms and hoped that Murdoc didn't have any more horrible tricks up his sleeve. He cast him an angry glare.

"Is that why you visited me issit? To torment me like you always do?"

Murdoc chuckled darkly. "Oh, no. Don't think that I want to spend anymore time with you than I have to. But I need someway to get myself out of this god awful situation, and I believe that you're just about the only person who can help me do it." He gave 2D another toothy grin.

"Wot? Why am I so special?"

"Hmm?" Murdoc scratched his chin deciding how to answer this question. "Listen, maybe it would be better if I show you why." He stood to his feet and walked to 2D's door. He curled his finger indicating that 2D should follow. However, when 2D remained sitting on the floor he growled with annoyance and raised his hand. "Listen mate, I suggest you follow right now unless you like bloody hands. And I may not be so generous to stop it next time."

With a speed 2D never thought possible of himself he leapt to his feet and burst through his bedroom door. Murdoc strode across the carpark straight towards his Winnebago. 2D walked along side him in puzzlement. He had no idea what use Murdoc could possibly have for him, but he couldn't help but get a bad feeling about it.

"Right" said Murdoc as he pushed the Winnebago door open. "If you'll just follow me this way."

2D was anxious about entering the Winnebago. It still seemed a forbidden area since Murdoc's death, despite having the ghostly apparition of Murdoc walking right beside him when he walked in. It was as dank and dirty as it had ever been, with a faint odour of cigarettes, weed and shoe polish. He ducked his head to avoid a few hanging pine air fresheners. He now realised that Murdoc had a slight transparency to him that hadn't noticed while they were in 2D's room. He wondered if he tried to touch Murdoc his hand would go straight through. Although he remembered now that Murdoc was solid enough to open a door.

"Over here." Murdoc beckoned. He was pointing to the small chest of drawers that sat next to his bed. 2D walked over timidly, he wasn't entirely sure what Murdoc wanted him to do. Murdoc rolled his eyes when 2D hesitated. "Open the top drawer you imbecile. It's not sodding brain surgery! I sometimes wonder if you had to be taught how to breathe."

2D did as Murdoc asked and slowly opened the top drawer. What potential horrors did it contain and how could it help Murdoc? But the question 2D was especially asking himself was what did he have to do with it? He closed his eyes not sure if wanted to see, but curiosity overcame him and he cracked an eye open.

He was half disappointed to find there was nothing of particular interest in there. It just seemed to be a bunch of rubbish. He saw stray cans and bottles mixed up with random bits of paper. He looked back at Murdoc with confusion. Murdoc just sighed and pointed to a piece of paper that was sitting at the top.

"There, that piece of paper. Read it to me."

"Oh" 2D picked it up and looked over it. He raised an eyebrow. "This is just an old menu for Indian takeout?"

"Turn it over you idiot."

2D turned over the yellow stained paper and look at the scrawling handwriting on the back, he began to read it out, but in the depths of his heart he felt that he already knew what was written down.

"I, Stuart Pot, do hereby forfeit the ownership of my eternal soul to Murdoc Niccals, the future omnipotent master and ruler of the world. This contract is binding and unbreakable." And when 2D looked closer he found that at the bottom was his unmistakeable signature.

2D stood frozen, the blood draining from his face. Murdoc, on the other hand, looked positively elated.

"So you see face-ache, I own you. And I'm going to have to borrow something of yours."

2D backed away, letting the paper he was holding fall to the ground. Murdoc looked positively evil. He didn't even have time to appreciate the irony that Murdoc's vestments were contributing to his menacing appearance. The world began to spin around him and the last thing he saw before everything went pitch black was Murdoc's leering face.

Russel wasn't sure if relief was an appropriate emotion to be feeling so soon after one of his band member's death. He knew that it was an incredible loss for the entire band, but not having to deal with a reeking, offensive abusive bass player constantly, well, it kind of felt nice.

He chided himself and decided that the true extent of the death hadn't quite hit him yet. He knew that eventually it would sink in the way that snake venom slowly works its way towards your heart. He lumbered towards the kitchen to do the same thing he had always done when his nerves were frayed. Eat.

He was surprised to see when he reached the kitchen that 2D was already sitting there in nothing but his underwear. His feet were resting on top of the table and he seemed to be thoroughly emersed in a Penthouse Magazine.

"Hey man." He said, not really sure what to say in this situation.

"Hey fatso." Came a caustic reply. 2D didn't even seem to bother looking at Russel.

"Excuse me?"

"No need to excuse yourself, flabby."

Russel was shocked. He didn't think he remembered the last time that 2D had been this rude to him. He had a right mind to give him a spectacular right hook. But he calmed himself remembering that this was probably 2D's way of grieving. He knew that 2D had taken Murdoc's death harder than any of other band members.

He was about to ignore 2D and continue with his business before he saw the half eaten steak that sat on the table near the singer's feet.

"Hey D, what's that?" He pointed to the cold lump of meat.

2D looked down his nose at the steak and then looked up at Russel with an incredulous expression. "It's the London Symphony…A steak you git! What, are you telling me that now you're fat and blind?"

"D, you've been a vegetarian for sixteen years."

2D sniffed and began to look at a large centrefold. "Yeah, decided it wasn't really floating my boat."

Russel gaped not even believing his ears. He looked at the ashtray which seemed to be clogged with used cigarette butts. "And listen man, you told me you was goin' to quit smoking?"

This seemed to grab 2D's attention more than the steak had. He lowered his magazine and looked straight at Russel with a frown etched across his face. "Now why the fuck would I do that?"

"Well" Russel began suppressing his growing rage. "You said you was worried about what it was doing to your voice. And you was also saying that you worried about what it was doing to your health."

"Oh really? Well then, we'll see about that." 2D stood up from his chair and walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets. He pulled out not one but three cigars making sure that Russel could see what he was doing. He lit them all and sucked on them simultaneously then waited few seconds before exhaling an enormous cloud of black smoke. "Ahh, lovely."

Russel had had enough. He knew that something was very wrong with 2D and decided to go see the only person who could possibly know what was going on with him.

"I sure hope Noodle knows what the hell is goin' on…"