We are Happy Landfill,
We are Gorillaz
/Welcome to the insatiable world of The Gorillaz, it's full of demons, pretty girls and of course me Murdoc Niccals! Unfortunately for me the bloody annoying person who's writing this for me won't allow me to put I encounters with women in the frrickin' book! But any who, my name is Murdoc Niccals master of The universal-class band The Gorillaz although I've said that already I don't care I like hearing myself say it and if you got as problem with it then take it up with me got it ? GOT IT? But if you don't then I think we'll get along quite well.
If you don't know me by now then I fell very ashamed of you, no no in fact how dare you! Right listen up you cabbage head inflicted couch potato I'm only doing this once got it? Ready (insert pervy laugh here) here we go...
Name: Murdoc Niccals
D.O.B: 6/6/66
Height: 5ft 9"
Origin: Stoke-on-Trent, England
Instruments: Bass guitar, Vocals, Guitar, Oud, Harmonica, Banjo
Characteristics: Inverted cross pendant, Red left eye, Red pinky nail
Name: Stuart Pot A.K.A. 2-D
D.O.B: 23/5/78
Height: 6ft 2"
Origin: Crawley, West Sussex, England
Instruments: Vocals, Keyboard, Melodica, Clavinet, Synthesiser
Characteristics: 2 8 ball fractured eyes, Blue/azure geometric hair, Missing front teeth, Is also completely void of any actual intellect
Name: Noodle
D.O.B: 31/10/90
Height:?
Origin: Osaka, Japan
Instruments: Vocals, guitar, keyboard, melodica, bass guitar, banjo, piano
Characteristics: Doesn't really seem to have any unless you count the addition of Japanese phrases floating around when she's in the room, or the fighting skill she has.
Name: Russell Hobbs
D.O.B: 3/6/75
Height: Short
Origin: Brooklyn, New York City, USA
Instruments: Drums, Percussion, Drum machine and sometimes if he's really lucky then he gets a sentence or two in the album.
Characteristics: Veeerrry fatt, White eyes, Always the person who looks after Noodle like she's his own.
Did you enjoy that? It was glorious wasn't it? Much like myself I expect. So you've met everyone, want to meet my bed now sweetheart? \
The Authoress flopped on her bed dropping the notepad, on which she scribed Murdoc's chapter for him, the very thought of the demon infested bass player chilled her spine to the very bone.
"Of all the people to hire me he had to be the one to do It." her thoughts occupied the thought of checking through the rest of Murdoc's "work". She sat in the candle lit damp room staring at the pad at her feet. She sighed preparing herself for a second instalment of "I'm-so-sexy-just-look-at-my-band-man"
/ I'd finally managed to sell the Black Clouds 10 crates of dodgy off-shot weapons and gotten to the docks, I was celebrating my success in outsmarting a major pirate group, although it's almost as hard as doing so to 2-D, I'd asked a good friend of mine who had a boat to take me back to England since I was Mexico. Unfortunately it turns out that those bloody pirates weren't as thick as I thought they were, they'd tracked me down before I'd even managed to set sail and shot me bleeding champagne! I'm convinced they attempted to shoot me but luckily missed me; still I earned that bloody drink! So I got the hell out of there and headed to wherever the wind took us, well in the end it was like that because we ran out of fuel, eventually though I found a beautiful little island, well it looked like it from far away; it looked like the perfect place you know, secluded, big and unwanted but as I got closer I saw that it was made out of junk. An island made out of rubbish from old crisp packets to a whole abandoned building that had been swept away in a major flood. Somehow the whole planets rubbish had gathered together and formed what looked to me like the ideal island. I realised that it stunk like Russell farting in his sleep, in fact maybe worse. I mean for all that was satanic it fucking stunk! Bloody hell I need a drink. Right, back to the story. So I'd finally found the perfect getaway from those pirates all I needed to do was get it to my styling so I put a massive Tracy island style house on top of the island and painted it pink I mean why not, I'm in the middle of the ocean I can do as I please, I generally do anyway. It had everything I needed including state of the art recording studio and secret lair. So then I got everything shipped over from my last place of residence, well there were some things that I just couldn't leave behind.
The last time I was with the band we did the El Manana video in which Noodle went unexpectedly missing, really she was supposed to parachute off before the island disappeared into the abyss, instead those pirates that I have had to run from shot the island down which I have to say was not what I was expecting. I'm not sure if she did escape I heard a rumour that she's now battling demons in hell. But I don't know, anyway I'm rambling, I grabbed a few bits and pieces from around the set after the crash like a few pieces of clothing and strands of hair, I eventually created a new noodle a cyborg of the guitar wielding battle-axe princess. I have to say my efforts were in vain since she acted nothing like Noodle; to start with she didn't even speak! So for I don't know how long (it's easy to lose track of time here) she stayed in my kingdom doing things that as a man I would have her do. Don't get the wrong idea sickos! I was however stripped down to just aimlessly strumming on me bass and actually some of it actually started making sense so I decided to put demos together just to see how it would be, I did the drum effects and guitar, hell I even put synthesiser in them but one thing was really missing- Stuart Potts voice. If it's one thing I know is that you can change every single member of that band but you can never change the singer, it's just not worth it. So I found 2-D, who wanted no part in another Gorillaz album, gassed him stuffed him in a suitcase and got him dropped onto my paradise, of course I got Noodle-Borg to greet him with a pistol but that was so he didn't get any bright sparks of ideas in that unused brain of his.
'W-where am I?'
*Click*
''Ello face ache, I 'ope you ain't been plannin' anythin'.'
'Whoa Mudz! Wha' 'appened to ya? Ya look awful.'
*Smack*
'Shu'up you bletherin' face wrenchin' idio'! You look worse.'
I stood in front of the idiot with me hands out in front of him,
'Welcome ta The Plastic Beach.'
He gave me a side look,
'Tha''d look be''er if you 'ad sumfin on.'
I chucked a bottle at his head,
'I go' underwear on idio'.'
I walked away signalling for them to follow me, I led him to a room under sea level, a room that was guarded by an enormous sperm whale. Did I mention that the twit ha cetaphobia, which is a fear of whales, just so that he didn't try to swim away. I had his DVDs and keyboards shipped over from his room. Don't I take good care of him?
'Err...Mudz?'
His voice was shaking while I walked to his safety vault door,
'What?' I wanted to strangle him with own vocal chords he was so infuriating, of course I couldn't so I shouted to make him flinch, it worked.
'Wha' the 'ell am I doin' 'ere? His eyes were so wide I thought his face would become engulfed if he began looking surprised.
'Didn't I tell you over the phone dullard?' my face lit up with an animalistic smile,' well dullard you'd really like it coz I'm making a new album and I gonna call it "the house of STINKFISH!" it's a good name init?'
The dullard just slid, like literally slid to the floor, he looked like he was in a lot of pain y'know? Not that I cared or anything. Then that stupid Vaseline factory started making noises, I literally felt the idiot freeze up it was so funny, so so funny.
'I-i-is da' a whale ou'side ma w-window?' He looked so shaken up, my word he began convulsing like he was gonna blow chunks and I tell ya he weren't gonna do it on my beautiful boots.
'Oi! Faceache do tha' on me nd I'll pummel ya!' he began whimpering like a child, lanky limbs strewn everywhere before completely relaxing. The idiot had stopped moving so suddenly I wondered if he was dead. I moved closer to his randomly placed body, closer, closer…' Nah he ain't dead, jus' fain'ed is all, wai' why'd I care?' I looked over to the Borg to find an answer to which she gave me a i-couldn't-care-less-even-if-my-circuit-was-being-threatened look.
'Borg go ou' the room, ge' me a drink while you're a' I' yeah?'
She left leaving me to pick up the pieces of a man called 2-D…I hates to say it but when I picked him up I expected at least a little bit of a struggle but nothing happened, he was as light as a feather. This from my experience was not a good thing, especially since I looked after his comatose ass for a year, so I knew. His skin, as soft as when we first met…I mean I mean, wait what the fuck I'm allowed to say what I want, this is my fucking island! So I'll continue, his skin was blemished and bruised from his travel to the beach he was skinny, too skinny for his own good and he stunk! Oh boy did he stink! Like the sewers of hell really! Ok maybe not that bad but he still smelt bad. His shirt was way too big for him and I could see his ribs through his disturbingly white skin, in fact if I looked really close I could see his heart beating. Definitely not a good thing. But I was not feeling to be a saint that day and quite frankly the amount of times I've seen him naked, I still never got used to it. So I just dropped him on his new, yes, shiny new bed and sheets leaving him to his own business.
I had to laugh when I heard his effeminate scream from my office; honestly I can't understand why he's so scared of whales. But then I heard this absolutely ghastly thump resound from his room and echo throughout his whole room. I figured he was just bumping into things from disorientation. Apparently from what I could gather from the Borg's Morse code and charade parade the buffoon had gone and knocked himself out by running into the door to his room. Idiot, can't leave them for one minute by themselves. So I had the Borg give him some medical attention and made sure that he didn't die or slip into another dreaded freaking coma. Really I did not need the inconvenience of It all again. It was bad enough that our guitarist was battling all of hell and our oversized drummer was absolutely insane (and living out of Ike Turners basement) from what I heard. I did not need another bloody annoyance in my life, apart from the dullard who is pleasantly annoying if I might add.