Author's Note:
It has just dawned on me that I have failed to recognize two very important gentlemen whom deserve a bit of credit before a certain someone gets into any possible trouble.
All characters/quotes/etc. belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett.
Now that's done and out of the way with; here is chapter three of "Fighting for Sanity."
Enjoy.
Chapter Three.
"Did you hear," one teenage boy asked another, "That group Gorillaz came out with another CD!"
Russel was restocking shelves at the back of his music store in Brooklyn, New York when he overheard the conversation. Unsure of what he heard, he went right up to the two boys and noticed a cardboard CD case in their tiny, little mitts. He towered over the two and seized the case right from them. They gazed at him in speechless disbelief. He tore it open and pulled out the CD. How'd he miss this? He stocks this entire store himself. Petrified with skepticism, he crushed the case and fumed out of the shop, leaving it totally unattended, and up to the his home that resided above the store.
He flicked his kitchen lights on and placed the CD in his computer. As it loaded, he figured he could use something to calm his nerves. A strawberry jam and chocolate syrup sandwich would do the trick. Russel gathered his ingredients, placing them atop his kitchen table. As he unscrewed a jar the music started. It was an orchestra. Soothing, he thought. The drummer skipped to the next couple of songs – track 3; the player read. It started with the sound of bongo drums, it seemed, followed by a flute? Then strings, then "Hey, look, yo! No castaway, no survivor; I ain't lost and this ain't shipwrecked…"
Russel's head cocked back in puzzlement. Bashy and Kano? He'd heard of the two London born rappers when they'd first started out but he was surprised to hear them in the mix. Russel took a bite of his sandwich as he skipped to another random song. Track 6. The beginning was odd, sounded like an old-time TV commercial. Then cymbals sounded and then his beat machine began working it's magic. That had to be his machine's crafty work in the background, he just knew it. It set him off. He began cussing up a storm, hollering and shouting and cursing. He, surprisingly, lost his appetite. So wound up in his fit, he almost missed a familiar voice as it started to sing.
"D'?"
He skipped, yet again, to another song. Track 13. And there it was, that bastard's bass guitar.
"You gotta be kiddi' me."
Russel's anger grew. He sat down at his computer and researched everywhere for any information regarding the album. It was scarce but he managed. Murdoc had run away to some secluded island dragging 2D along with him and put out a new album, no doubt using his beat machine! Russel slammed his fist on the counter squishing the uneaten sandwich. He retrieved a sheet of paper, along with a pen, tearing out the sheet in a haste. He jotted down the only words that weren't clouded by his rage.
"This is it. The time has come. The demons have chased me down and now forced my heavyweight hip hop hand. I need to get there. The expanse, the calm of the eternal briny deep. The Ocean. . The ..Ocean... So this is it... Throw myself into the sea. X Russel Hobbs..."
His dirty hand shook as it stained the paper as he wrote. With any luck this note would give anyone who came bothering to look for him some idea of his whereabouts. The pen rolled from his hand and he went back down the shop. The two teenage boys were stuffing CD's in their pants and underneath their shirts. They froze as the sight of the man coming into the store. Russ stomped passed them as they looted his shop. Outside, he hailed a cab and shouted at the man, "Coney Island Boardwalk" And the cabbie sped off.
The boardwalk was as dead as a doornail when Russel finally arrived. He hurried to the pier where two men sat at the end, fishing poles in hand. Hearing him come down the dock, the men turned wide-eyed as the hefty man aimed for them; his heavy feet literally breaking the boards as he stepped. Without warning, Russel dived into the sea, splashing the men he left bewildered. He wasn't sure where he was going as he began his journey to Plastic Beach.
He was still fuming. He'd spent most of his natural life creating that beat machine. Every single beat and every single rhythm ever heard was compressed into that system he spent countless, restless nights creating. And here was this green bastard, too lazy to even put clothes on at times, comes slimming in to use it all la-di-da not even bothering to contact its initiator for his consent. Russel would have gladly lent it to him if he were in on the whole idea of a new album. Unfortunately Murdoc felt the brilliant drummer was unneeded and so he didn't bother tipping him off. And yes, Russel was hurt that he wasn't invited to rejoin the group. Hurt and angry and disappointed. Gorillaz were his family, at least that's what he thought. But looking back at the latest album, the family seemed so broken. Murdoc was in on it for him own selfish wants, 2D didn't want any part of it, everyone thought Noodle was dead, and Russel wasn't even asked to come back. The once tightly knit group of friends seemed so strained now and it was pretty depressing.
Murdoc Niccals was peeved. His nose was aching, he had a massive headache, he was low on booze, and he had heard enough. Russel bellowed at him, his deep, large voice practically shook the entire island. He was getting tired of the fat bloke nagging at him. About six minutes into the one-sided argument Murdoc glazed over. His mind was on other matters he figured more important that his ex-drummer's whining. For one thing, he needed to figure out a way to obtain more alcohol. Rum or Brandy, Scott or Whiskey? How about all of the above? And another thing, women. It had been a long time, too long for the Satanist's liking.
His thoughts drew back to Noodle. She certainly filled out. She should be, what, eighteen, nineteen? He grinned devilishly. He knew he would never try for her, but by god, she was stunning. She acquired some new assets and a great pair of legs and very flattering curve. Japanese women always seem at their prime when they reacted legal age. The girl sure was a delight to look at. Speaking of which, he still needed to figure out how to snag some broads.
"Russel," he interrupted showing him is palms, "Russ, I got an immense migraine rih' now and your hollarin' ain't 'elpin'."
"Well I ain't finished."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I used ya bloody machine and did'n' invite ya back to make the new album. Bad Murdoc, bad!" He slapped the back of his right hand with his left, making a ridiculous whiny voice as he did.
Russel wasn't amused or satisfied. He would like to sock him the way Noodle did, however, considering his size, he would probably only murder Murdoc in the process; although it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Pulling his face into a furious grimace, Russ stared intensely at Murdoc.
Murdoc signed, he was getting a lot of shit from everybody today wasn't he? "I'll tell ya wot, you're invention did work wonders on the music though. You must've 'eard it, yeah? Pretty kick-ass, yeah?"
Russel Hobbs, even as livid as he was, couldn't deny how good the album sounded. Even when he first heard the tunes, he couldn't help but bob his head to the beats.
"Das beside da point!"
"Wot does it matta anymore?" Murdoc laughed, "I used it n now there is no goin' back. The CD's all ova the world n ev'ry one's listin'n to it now. 'S like ya was 'part of the band afta all, yeah? It is your machine."
Russel was far too tired to argue anymore and the it seemed like the bassist wasn't going to budge. He exhaled noisily and rotated his head, left then right, then he yawned. Then he realized Noodle wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Where Noodle go?"
"Lass, snuck off into the island," Murdoc said picking up the belongings she left behind. "Must've gone off to see Stuart."
Russel yawned again rubbing his eyes, too dreadfully exhausted to think or care about anything. He laid back down on the ground and fell sleep. Murdoc sighed, shifting the items beneath his arms. He will have to ask him how on earth he grew to be go gigantic. But he figured he'd let the bloke sleep first. Struggling with the baggage, Murdoc lugged the suitcases over towards the lighthouse. He kicked open the door, dropping everything on the floor with the exception of Noodle's guitar that he gently placed down. He was getting to old for heavy lifting. He pinched the bridge of his nose flinching at the pain.
"Girl did quite a numba, she did." Murdoc said, heading back into the mainland.
He walked into the study and saw Noodle asleep on the leather chairs. She stirred some but he let her be and went into his secret lair that was hidden behind the bookcase. He was in his burrow for a good long time, chugging down the last of his booze, and eventually, he began his time-consuming ascend up the lengthy staircase. He cursed the day the he decided to make the staircase so damn long.
Through the thick bookcase entrance, Noodle's shrills echoed.
Did I leave you hanging? Good. It's all apart of my plan.
I should warn you though, it took a whole lot of pep-talk from my "adviser" to convince myself to finally upload this chapter. And when I say "adviser" (aka Alexis) I basically mean my best friend who reads every piece of writing I make before anyone else and tells me whether or not it's acceptable. She too is somewhat of a Gorillaz Fan and very good when it comes to critiquing writing.
What I'm getting at is, chapter four is done, and has been done for about a week, but I'm insanely critical when it comes to my own work so it will be a while before that chapter is out. But not to fret, it will be uploaded within a week. After I finish my reading "The Grapes of Wrath," complete my AP English homework, and try not to kill myself because stress has made me crazy.
Till next time!
Oh, and if you all could be a dear and let other Gorillaz/2DxNoodle fans know about this story and leave more reviews. That would just do wonders on my psyche!
(: