Yes, this has taken ages to appear. I cannot even begin to say how sorry I am, but its mainly because I've had so many other things to do -- and there's the little issue of only being able to use a computer and the internet once every fortnight. Anyway, here it is at last. I'm so sorry I took so long…if I post anything else here, I think I'll make sure its already finished before I post it.

Thank you all for reviewing! I love you!



Once again, the air in Kong Studios was polluted with the thick stench of burning food. Following the growing cloud of black smoke which had winded its way around the corridors, Noodle traced the source to the kitchen. Here she found Murdoc, shrouded in waves of smoke and a filthy cooking apron, his face wide and grinning as he placed the cremated carcass of what once was a chicken on the kitchen table. Waving his hand before his face, his eyes focused on the girl standing in the doorway and his face suddenly sank to the tombstone expression so easily etched upon his features.

"Whaddya you want?" He grunted.

"I was wondering what you are endeavouring to achieve?" Noodle asked tolerably, her large eyelashes flashing, once. Murdoc, concentrating on keeping his cold aura, shrugged the apron from his shoulders. Noodle subconsciously noted the apron had not helped to prevent two large stains from appearing on the front of the bassist's shirt.

"Just tryin' to look after the singer of my band. Ya got something to say about that?" Noodle did have something to say about that -- if 2-D was forced to eat what the newly diligent Murdoc had cooked up, the singer would probably never bring a microphone to his mouth again -- but she resisted and nodded approvingly. Murdoc grunted as he shoved a window open and began to direct the smoke away with the flap of his hands. "Do ya wanna bit?"

"No thank you. We already ate. There's some pizza left if you want it."

Murdoc turned and surveyed the burnt chicken on the table. The meat, once fleshy and tender, was now grissling and popping inside its charcoal casing.

"What's wrong with it?" He asked defensively.


2-D jumped back when he saw a single red eye appear through the keyhole.

"Knock knock!"


"Let me in idiot." This order was emphasised with a violent strike on the door, at which the singer jumped and rushed to the lock. "You missed dinner." Murdoc told 2-D once he was through the door and inside the singer's room. "Brought you this." A pizza box was thrown at the singer and a single slice of cold pizza fell out and slapped to the floor while 2-D fell backwards onto his bed.

"Er, thanks Muds." He brushed the front of his shirt with a scrawny hand where a new patch of grease had formed.

"I cooked ya something as well, but I burnt it at the same time. Damn cooker's screwed again." 2-D's look of forced gratitude was wasted, as Murdoc's attention was on the freshly created painting hung up against the wall. His mismatched eyes narrowed as he stared at the mutilated canvas, clashes of red and green paint strokes.

"Dullard, what, may i ask, the hell is that."

"It's my painting."

"That's a painting? Looks like someone was sick on a pavement."

"It's only my style, Muds." 2-D looked slightly offended, and picked up a handful of paintbrushes before clutching them possessively to his chest. "I need to find ways to express myself."

"Don't ya do that in your music?" Murdoc offered. 2-D looked like he was thinking hard, but the moment soon passed.

"I guess so. But there are other ways." The singer's air or superiority was ruined somewhat when he went to put the brushes down and slipped up on the discarded pizza slice. Murdoc laughed.

"Well I'm goin' to leave you and your artist-tary to it. Come downstairs later." He left without closing the door. 2-D lay back in relief, a lone pepperoni sticking to his pale cheek.


2-D was painting?

Well it was utter rubbish, that was certain. So why did Murdoc in some way admire the brushstrokes, why did he admire the deft and strong way the paint had been splashed across the pure white of the canvas?

Probably because he admired the painter.

Nope. No. Shut up.

Murdoc was sat in the lounge alone, rocking backwards and forwards on the sofa, his eyes blank as he lost his soul in his thoughts.

Perhaps if he killed the goldfish, these feelings would go away. That was it! This last bastillion that was keeping him from his normal psychopathic self. The self that he wanted back as soon as was humanly possible.

Completely set and focused, Murdoc entered the kitchen once more and, boiling with anger, glared at Noodle and Russell who were emptying out the cupboards.

"Sumthin' up, man?" Russell asked, brandishing a rotting human arm at Murdoc. Murdoc glowered and made for the sink. "Murdoc?"

"I'm killing that fucking goldfish 'nd I don't want any of you lot to stop me!" He leaped at the sink, and Noodle cried out in her Japanese voice as his fingers wrapped around the fish and squeezed. The following moments was chaos as Russell dived and snatched up the strangling hand.

"Hey hey! Chill out man, its just a goldfish!" The drummer wrestled the little animal from Murdoc's hand -- after a few moments of struggling, Murdoc was semi-conscious on the floor and Russell was carefully returning the goldfish to the sink.


The evening in Kong Studios saw the band watching a pirate copy 'King Kong' in the lounge. Russell and Noodle were sat on the larger sofa, while Murdoc had opted for the smaller one on the other side of the room. 2-D, perhaps sensing some tension from the bassist, had perched himself on the arm of the smaller sofa and was gazing into space while the creatures on the screen screamed and roared.

Russell and Noodle were totally absorbed into the film, Russell even nodding or shaking his head at appropriate moments. Neither of them noticed that Murdoc was staring unashamedly at 2-D, watching the flicker of the sharp light on his clean face. He was a pretty boy, alright. Murdoc wondered vacantly where all the girlfriends had disappeared to. Probably strangled themselves.

"Ya alright there?" Murdoc asked, barely audible. 2-D flinched as if waking from a dream, and carefully gazed at the bassist.

"Fine thanks Muds." He shuffled and returned his gaze to the TV. Another moment passed.

"Hey dullard," Murdoc spoke softly. "Cm' 'ere." Again, 2-D flinched, and glanced dismissively at Murdoc.

"I think I'm alright sat here, Muds."

"I said," Murdoc growled, "Come here." With a strong hand, the bassist grabbed 2-D's collar and quickly pulled him from the room. Noodle and Russell barely noticed, but Russel belched and pressed the volume button on the remote. In the shadow of the next room, Murdoc pulled 2-D into the corner closest to a large fish tank, in which small guppies were swimming and gulping the water. They watched the new arrivals with goggle eyes.

"Ow! What are you..."

"Shut up!" Murdoc pushed his band mate against the wall and checked over his shoulder, listening carefully for Noodle and Russell. "Now listen dullard, I've got one or two things happenin' in my head recently, an' unfortunately they're all to do with you." He pushed his band mate more forcefully against the wall, ignoring the yelp of protest.

"But Muds..." He nodded his head towards the next room, from which came the sound of a second belch.

"I don't give a fuck, for god's sake dullard dont you get it!" He grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and dragged him into the shadow of the alcove. The TV set in the living room could be heard advertising pet food, its dull blue light flickered onto the wall behind Murdoc, and 2-D appeared to be suddenly entranced by it.

"Dont get what?" He asked glazedly. Murdoc fought the urge to slap him, but slammed him against the fish tank and raked his hands down the singer's back.

"If I give you a clue will ya guess?" He spat. The toxic water in the tank sloshed over the side and splashed against the two men, and both of them yelped in surprise. Suddenly the volume of the TV plunged, and Russell's concerned voice floated towards them.

"Yo! Alright there?"

"Fucking Satan!" Murdoc growled, and yanked 2-D away from the room and pushed him through the door. As soon as the barrier slammed shut and silence accompanied the two men in the corridor, the bassist pinned the singer against the wall and closed his mouth over 2-D's as if he was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Murdoc took a firm hold of the back of 2-D's neck to stop the struggle of his band mate, who was not entirely sure of the new sensation of another man pushing against his tongue. Time seemed to stop for 2-D, all seconds and minutes froze and congealed -- but by the time Murdoc's straying hand had passed the breach of decency, the singer was able to fully register the situation and pushed his band mate away again.

"Nah, no its not right..."

"Fuck that." Taking a firm grip on 2-D's scrawny shoulders, Murdoc began to bodily drag him along the corridor.

Moments later, the dim-lit silence of the gloomy Kong Studios car park was broken by the sound of struggle as Murdoc dragged the singer of his band towards the shady wreck of his residence.

"I'm really not sure about this Muds..."

"Come on, get in here." He roughly threw his band mate into the Winnebago, took a furtive glance at the surrounding car park, and quickly dipped inside after him. 2-D was stood beside the sink, watching him with enormous puppy eyes.

"Does this mean anything to you?" The singer asked quietly, showing some resistance when his companion again took his scrawny arms in his own and began levering him towards the other end of the Winnebago.

"Its. Just. A. Fuck." Murdoc spat impatiently.

"Don't you luv me?"

"No." Murdoc spat, though not before he gave the singer a long glare of harsh speculation.

"Then forget it Muds!" 2-D was almost crying. Dull black eyes dampened as he turned his pale face away from the offered kiss, the younger man's spidery hand failed to push his band mate away.

For a single moment all the anger Murdoc had ever experienced focused deep in the centre of his heart. Little bastard, who does he think he is, giving orders like that? Grubby fingers planted themselves on either side of the singer's chin and his head was snapped back towards Murdoc, who grinned tolerably.

"Hey, its not like i was lyin when I said what i said the other night." The bassist followed this with a little cough in his throat and a cautious glance at the wall. 2-D's resolve wavered slightly, and pressing his advantage Murdoc kissed him again, gently this time. Any groans of yearning were subdued.

"There's one problem..." 2-D offered meekly as soon as the warm embrace was broken. Murdoc raised his eyebrows.

"Just one?"

"Well...we're...we're both men."

"Really?" Keeping his glare on 2-D's blank pupils, Murdoc's hand jabbed down and took a firm hold of the offending article, at which the singer gasped and gripped his band mate's wrist. "Well, there ya go, you do have one. And there was me all this time wonderin." Struggle followed, Murdoc bodily wrestled the singer towards the bed but both men cried out when he tripped over a curl in the carpet and slammed to the floor, pulling 2-D with him. With renewed vigour Murdoc proceeded to drag his band mate along the floor while running his free hand over whichever spot of pale skin he could reach. When they reached the discarded blanket, the lust could be sated no longer and the Satanist lunged himself at the younger man with incredible vigour.

Murdoc yanked the shirt from 2-D's body, taking the harsh sound of ripping as a spur to move faster. His fingers fumbled with his belt as the two men rolled around, lips locked and surging.

Something clicked inside Murdoc.

Suddenly all his fever and power slipped away in a cold rush into his belly, and Murdoc drew away quickly, his eyes opening and closing in confusion. Breathing heavily, 2-D gazed up at him and frowned.

"Muds? Are you okay?"

"Nah, I can't do this. Jes...jes get out of my sight. Right now." Murdoc growled. 2-D sat up quickly and jumped from the bed.


"I SAID NOW DULLARD!" Murdoc screeched. 2-D shot to the door and flung it open, then paused. In a flash he was beside Murdoc again and, moving his face to his friend's, he kissed Murdoc gently as he could. When they pulled away a string of saliva snapped between their lips, and Murdoc's mis-matched eyes glared waveringly into 2-D's own blank pools.

"Now..." He throatily whispered. Once again 2-D stepped away, zipping his jeans as he picked his way over the mess. Without looking back, he stepped through the door and shut it carefully, leaving Murdoc alone.


Morning brought a new burst of brainpower to Murdoc. The initial thought upon his waking was sheer and intense embarrassment that he had actually tried to shag 2-D. At least now, he realised, getting so close had sated the strange passion which had possessed him for the past few days.

2-D had approached him at breakfast time, muttering that none of it was a good idea. It was stupid, in fact. They should learn to deal with any emotions or feelings they had. They also needed some female company.

Women seemed to understand, although of course money was a good tutor. Regardless of how stupid 2-D appeared to be, even dimwits have feelings. Unfortunately .

To be fair, brain-freeze had a point. There were other more important things to think about. The band, for instance, and judging by the success of the new album launch, Murdoc would need all the time he could get to promote and...deal with more fans. Having an affair with a band mate at a time like this was, frankly, stupid -- especially when both men were redoundedly heterosexual.

He could forget all this. Next time he saw 2-D he would slap him across the forehead and not feel any kind of remorse for doing it afterwards.

Out to the fans, grab a couple of young hot girls and bring them back to the Winnebago.

He needed new bass strings.

Murdoc rubbed his unshaved chin and smiled. But there was one more thing to take care of...


Humming a tune to herself, Noodle padded into the kitchen, her black eyes sparkling with the success of another composition. Held carefully in her small hands was a glass globe, a fragile bubble slurping with water. With great reverence, Noodle placed the fish bowl onto the table before she skipped to the sink, flexing her fingers ready to pick the goldfish from the greasy water.

When she glanced into the sink, she beheld nothing but the sheen of fat globules swimming where a fish should have been.

"Hey Noodle!" A voice called. Murdoc was standing in the doorway, his fist tightly clenched and eyes rubbed red. "Looking for this?" He threw something at her and slammed the door the second it landed in her hands.

Cushioned on the soft skin of Noodle's palms, the goldfish goggled its single visible eye at the young face in the light above it.

"It means nothin'!" Murdoc's yell was heard, before a door somewhere in the studios slammed shut. Noodle blinked quietly, registering a sad laugh which belonged only to a certain blue-haired singer.

A fish out of water cannot last long. The goldfish's life silently slipped away -- cold, brittle, worthless.