Chapter One
"We are here Russle-Sama, we are finally here," Noodle repeated, her mind focused solely on one thing.
"I know baby-girl," Russle replied feeling completely drained.
The two closed in on the island, the building blocks of it becoming apparent. Heaps and heaps of garbage clumped together, sticking out in various places. It was a sight to behold. Shipped wrecked boats, airplane parts, broken down cars, and other various masses of waste were visible through and through. Noodle's face scrunched in a sour manner beneath her mask.
Russle huffed making his way to the closest opportunity to board the island. He heaved himself onto the land and laughed triumphantly settling next to a jetty. Noodle kicked off the items that rested on his head and jumped down, guitar case in hand. The defeated drummer collapsed onto his back and let his eyes fall.
Noodle patted his head again, " Yoku Dekimashita, Russle-Sama. Good work."
"Well, I'll be…!" A hoarse voice echoed, "Yer bloats finally made it ay?"
Murdoc Niccals stood tall with his knuckles on his hips and a fag pursed between his ginning lips.
Russle slipped into a light slumber. His breathing was heavy as his chest rose and fell slowly. Noodle turned in Murdoc's direction. He began his way towards the two fallen band members.
"Well, well, well," Murdoc began as he took a long drag of his smoke, "'s been a long time, ain't it Noodle?" He puffed out a thick cloud of smoke.
"It certainly has Murdoc-Sama," Noodle stood.
"Bloody, 'ell," he chuckled, "you sure 'ave ground 'aven't ya?"
The guitarist felt self-conscious for a second before she realized whom she was speaking to.
"That is what happens when you have not seen someone in almost five years."
"Oh, c'mon now love, I tried lookin' for ya, yeah?"
"I guess you did not try hard enough. Or I was not worth searching for."
"Look," Murdoc flicked his smoke away, "do yer know 'ow hard it was lookin' for yer? Believe me, I tried. Ol' Lucifer 'im self couldn't 'ave done a betta' job."
Murdoc stared at the masked girl for one long moment unsure of what to say. He hated confrontation but he knew this particular one was inevitable. He rubbed his head nervously and said, "I ain't no good at well… apologies. So whateva' hostility ya might—"
Thwack.
Noodle's fist made contact with Murdoc's face. The bassist stumbled back holding his nose. "Fuck, why do thay always go fer the nose?" He rested on his left elbow patting his nostrils with the back of his right hand. Blood seeped down some, staining his green skin. "Alright, guess I deserved a bit of that…"
Noodle crackled her fist and flexed her fingers, a bit satisfied. Russle stirred, his eyes flickering open. He was reluctant to sit up but he managed, his large frame casting a shadow over the tall construction of Plastic Beach. His big head looked down on Murdoc and Noodle, his eyes shifting onto the green stinkbug.
"Oh, fuck," Murdoc groaned. Yet another entirely unavoidable confrontation.
"Hey Mudds," Russle grinned maliciously, "so ya think ya can go n' make anutha album with ma' Beat Machine o' withou' me?"
"It was just lyin' there just wanting to be used. Faceache n' I needed it since you weren't 'round," Murdoc shrugged, "'S no problem, yeah?"
Noodle's heart skipped a beat. The two men continued to quarrel as Noodle slipped away. She ventured onto the mainland of the island and climbed up the rickety staircase. Two birds, a pelican and seagull, prattled on; conversing about nothing of any importance. She pried open an iron door and stepped into the dimly lit area. The walls in the small room were green and slimy looking, the floors were scattered with litter and plastic bags of questionable items. The rank of dead fish was overwhelming and flickering lights served as the only light source. Noodle peered around, nearing the graffiti covered elevator. Too engulfed with the new surroundings, Noodle bumped into a tiny man.
"The life, boss, the lift," the man shouted.
She staggered back slightly jumpy. The man stood to her shoulder; his hair neatly trimmed and combed back, and his white tuxedo glistened. It was a wonder how she ever missed him.
"The lift boss! The lift," he repeated again even louder.
"O-Oh, oh thank you." Noodle edge her way to the lift, pressed the button and waited.
Seconds later, the doors slid open and she entered. Just like the door, the inside of the lift was plastered with graffiti. Noodle reached out, stroking the graffiti. Most of the work looked like words. Lyrics maybe? They were almost too illegible to make out but Noodle admired then even so. Slowly rotating around, still admiring the art, Noodle came around to face the lift's panel.
"Roof, study, studio, garden patio, master bedroom," Noodle's finger ran down the buttons, "engine room, broom room, computer room, 2D's…"
Her voice trailed off. Several buttons down on the panel blinked, telling anyone that the no such rooms existed, were the only moving thing in that lift at that moment. Noodle's finger was still on the button; the heat of the light grew warm underneath her fingertip.
"Just press it," she told herself. "Just press it quickly and that is it."
She'd been waiting a very long time to see one person; one blue-haired, black-eyed, gaped tooth person. Now that he was merely a lift ride away, she choked. What would she say? What would she do? What would he say or do? She withdrew her hand. In the small lift, she paced to and fro. Never in her life had she felt so nervous. But what should she be nervous about? They were just friends; friends who were to join up after a long time apart; friends who both, surely, had changed.
Noodle's turmoil increased. She felt somewhat ludicrous for acting so child-like. She was an adult now for Pete's sake. Building up all her courage, she stomped her foot once and pressed the button labeled "2D's Room" a little harder than necessary. The ground shook beneath her and the lift began to move. As the lift descended her nervousness did exactly the opposite. Maybe it wasn't too late too back out now. The lift came to an abrupt halt making Noodle stumbled some. The doors slid open, bright lights flooding in, and the comforting smell of butterscotch engulfed her.
A pale, gruesome looking gentleman hauled himself across the television screen. His eyes were bloodshot and he was dressed in rags. He was missing an arm and his left leg was limp as it dragged along side him. The horrific looking man uttered inaudible speech as blood oozed from him mouth. A woman dressed in a too-tight red dress screamed, placing her hand in front of her in an attempt to shield herself from the man. It was useless, it seemed, because the man toppled on top of the woman and started feeding on her flesh.
2D stared aimlessly at the screen. He yawned pulling out a small cellular phone from his pocket. The antenna on the screen blinked indicating 'no service.' He groaned, chucking the good-for-nothing piece of plastic across the room. He was getting sick of the tiny room, he was getting sick of being a prisoner, he was getting sick of Plastic Beach, he was especially sick of the giant whale who constantly watched him. Cautiously, he peeked at the curtains that were drawn closed. He knew he was there, eyeing him and just dreaming about eating him for breakfast. 2D shook with fear and turned his attention back to the television set. He'd seen this B-rated zombie movie for the umpteenth time already. He'd seen it enough times already to speak along with the dialogue. Having had enough with this flick, he sat up and stretched arching his back and stood off the bed. He ejected the DVD from its player and laid the disc back side up as not to damage it. He disconnected the player and plugged in his game system. Lately, plugging in anything was a hassle since his multi-plug went missing. Now, he had to unplug things to make room of others. 2D selected a random game from his collection and placed it in the system. The game began to load and the screen wavered to life. He plopped back down onto the bed, the controller barely able to stretch out far enough. 2D played the game for a while until his last life ran out.
"Damn!" 2D yanked the controller as his man tumbled down a pit as if it would somehow save him.
The controller's connection snapped out of the socket and flung back whipping 2D in the face. He dropped the controller and held his face cursing in mumbles. His anger was bubbling, he was getting very irritated of everything. He retrieved the controller and hurled it. The cable managed to snag onto the curtain, jerking it open. One large eyeball peered into the room, it's pupil darting everywhere. 2D shouted, doubling back, his head hitting the floor. He scrambled up and shot out an arm for the curtain. He stood on the bed and pulled the curtain closed, gripping it with a shaky hand. He could never catch a break could he? He slinked down, his head hanging, and his hands limp on his lap. The sound of gears churning and creaking filled the room. What could Murdoc possibly want now, he wondered. He kept his place looking sideways at the lift doors. The gears continued to rumble for a while then they quieted. 2D continued to stare at the door waiting for them to open. The metal door creaked and gradually they opened. Instead of the tall green bassist standing boldly, ready to start barking orders like the blue-haired singer was expecting to see, there she stood – about five feet and four inches from the ground. Even with her face hidden beneath that strange mask, he knew it was her, his little Noodle.