Murdoc and 2D are standing on the balcony, leaning against the railing and looking out over the landfill site. The bassist is drinking Rum from the bottle, and 2D is nursing a glass of Scotch. 2D swirls the golden liquid round in the glass and slightly zones out, as he watches the way the sunlight reflects off the edge of the glass. Murdoc, who is in a surprisingly good mood, fumbles round in his pocket and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. Taking one from the packet, he places it between his lips and feels round in his back pocket for his lighter. 2D tilts his glass back and forth, making little golden waves in the Scotch, smiling at the way the light reflects off them and makes the edges of the glass almost look like it's on fire.
"Oi D!" says Murdoc, still patting himself down. "Got a light? Mine appears to have gone wah, walkies." he adds, finally giving up his search. 2D snaps out of his daze and puts his hand down to the lighter in his pocket.
"Yeah sure Muds. 'Ere ya go." he says brightly, handing it to the old man. Murdoc grunts and lights up the cigarette. "Say Muds. 'Ave ya ever wondered wot it wood be like to own a pub?" 2D asks, as Muds hands back the lighter.
"Ahhhh? No. Not really... But now err, you mention it...that..! Would be very convenient. Heh, heh." the bassist replies with a chuckle, holding up the bottle of Rum and winking at 2D. The young man looks down at his Scotch and considers the thought for a moment.
"Yeah it wood. Bu' ya wouldn't do it every day. I mean, you'd end up drinkin' all ya profit hey?" he says, looking at the side of the bassists face. Murdoc takes a large swig from the bottle and gulps loudly, then pulls his lips back over his teeth, sucking the air sharply. He smiles to himself, thinking.
"Maybe?" he answers finally, "But what a closin' down party that would be. Heh, heh, heh." he adds, joking around and not really taking the conversation at all seriously. 2D shakes his head slowly, although he's pleased the old man seems to be in a good mood, he knows he's not really listening. Determined to engage him in his thought, he presses the old man further.
"But no...I mean really, like don' pubs sell for millions or sumfink?" he asks, trying to get Murdoc interested. The bassist finishes the bottle and tosses it over the railing, still not really listening to what the keyboardist beside him was saying. 2D watches it flip end over end, waiting for an answer to his question. Not getting one, he turns to see that Murdoc is not standing next to him anymore, but instead, has settled in one of the deck chairs. 2D sighs and walks over to join him. Murdoc looks up at the approaching youth and suddenly remembers what happened the last time they were sat here drinking. He shudders a little and looks away, but 2D doesn't seem to of noticed.
"Well?" 2D says, looking over at the old man as he sits down. Murdoc looks at him and creases his forehead, pausing in mid-thought.
"Huh? Wha?" he replies, shaking his head and crossing his ankles, trying not to look perturbed by the memory still floating around in his mind. Feeling a little more comfortable, he turns his attention to brushing some invisible dirt from his thigh. He's just a little too distracted to really take in the question 2D had asked. His brain keeps throwing random images at him, some of which, although pleasing, are disturbing his line of thought. He pauses the moment in his mind and breathes slowly, drawing on the cigarette and hoping to push the whole scene comfortably out of his mind and over the railing, just like the Rum bottle. He smiles as the memory seems to slowly fade, and continues to brush off his knee.
"Millions? Don' they sell for millions?" 2D says, repeating his question with just a hint of annoyance in his voice. The old man looks up at the youth, almost startled by the sound of his voice. Not wanting to really talk to him, but not wanting to look dimwitted in front of him either. He gives in and traces back the half heard conversation, trying to work out what the boy was talking about. His forehead creases again as slowly his mind begins to pick up the thread.
"Oh, right....Ahh yeah, yeah. Buuut, ya gotta have millions to buy 'em in the first place. Plus all the connections, lawyers, legalities, licenses, blah, blah, blah." Murdoc replies, placing one hand behind his head and waving the question off with the other. Then interlacing his fingers behind his head, he settles down deeper into the deckchair, with a long comfortable sigh. 2D looks back down at his drink, considering what the old man had just said. He tilts the glass back and forth, then throws the last of the liquid down his throat and places the empty glass on the table. Pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, he continues thinking about what Murdoc said, while trying to understand why people would go through it all then, 'I mean if it's that hard.' he thinks, sliding a cigarette out of the packet, 'Maybe thats why they tend tah stay in families and that?' he lights up the cigarette, drawing back on it slowly, before blowing a long line of smoke rings, and watching them rise up towards the umbrella, before being blown apart by a slight breeze. 'We've got the money... I fink? So all the other stuff wouldn't be that much of a problem really? Would it?' He adds and tucks an arm behind his head, leaning back in the chair and drawing his knee up. He rests his free hand against it and flicks at the butt of the cigarette with his thumbnail. The clouds float by, their edges tinged red and orange by the sunset, 2D watches them change and smiles to himself. Finally thinking that he'd reached a conclusion, he turns his attention back to the old man.
"Would ya like to own one with me though? I mean if I bought one?" he says finally, continuing the conversation with Murdoc. The bassist lets out a loud snore, startling the keyboardist a little, and making him turn his head to look at the now sleeping bassist. "Oh! You've dropped off." the young man sits up and watches Murdoc's face crease as if he's dreaming about something. "Muds?" he turns in his chair, to face the bassist, putting both feet on the floor and leaning over to him. But the old man sleeps on, so 2D leans over further and taps the old man on the arm gently.
"Muds?!" 2D repeats, a little louder, sliding off the chair and kneeling beside the sleeping bassist. He rocks Murdoc a little, hoping this will wake him. The old man finally snorts and slowly opens his eyes.
"Wha?" Murdoc says, yawning sleepily and rubbing one eye with the heel of his palm.
"Wood ya do it wif me?" says 2D, with his hand on Murdocs arm. The bassist snaps his eyes wide open and leaps off the deckchair, putting it between him and the youth.
"How many times have I gotta say it?! I'm not gay! Got it?!" he snaps and storms off towards the kitchen. 2D blinks at him astonished, and watches as the old man grabs the door handle, yanking open the door and slamming it aside angrily.
"Wha' did I say?" he squeaks, confused by the bassist's reaction. "How does ownin' a pub make ya gay then Muds?" he adds, scratching his head and sliding back up onto the deckchair.
"Leave me alone!" screeches Murdoc, as he slams his way through the kitchen, heading for the safety of his Winnie.
"I don' understand?" the keyboardist mutters to himself, looking about himself as he tries to work out what had made the old man react that way, to a simple question.
Russel is sitting at the kitchen table, eating a large sandwich. He chuckles to himself and continues munching. 'Heh, heh. Guess dah honeymoons ova den?' he thinks as he swallows and picks up his drink.
"Here's tah young love. Such a beautiful thang t'watch." he says, toasting the empty room. "Well sometimes anyway." he adds and bursts out laughing, before returning to his sandwich.