Author's note: This story takes place in movie!verse, some time after the plot with the team now being on the run,
just having started to help out people for a living. (On the other hand, it doesn't really conflict with tv!verse.)
Uh, first-timer in terms of writing fanfiction here, but I sure hope the story is enjoyable nonetheless.
„Aw, god, whoever invented the shower should be awarded some kind of prize!" Face sighed enthusiastically and threw himself on
the sofa next to B.A. who was busy watching some football game and only gave a short grunt. Probably to confirm he was somewhat listening.
"The Peace Nobel Prize for sure.", Hannibal nodded, absently reading the newspaper. "How many wars out there that are fought because of
children refusing to bathe..."
"Wha- That's no fair, Bossman!" Hannibal turned his head slightly at the objection and found the pilot shaking his head vehemently.
"Don't shower for a few months and you'd be the number one walking study for all kinds of micro-organisms, I'm telling you!"
Face shot him a slightly horrified look. "That's an awful plan buddy-" But he didn't get to say much more as Murdock continued his speech without mercy.
"And after years, YEARS-!" A maniac grin spread on the pilots face as he lowered his voice – most likely to resemble some kind of croaky closet monster
without access to cough syrup - "After years there will be nothing but a moving clump of green glibber mass with the mission to save the world from
the evil acts of The Soap!"
"'The Soap'? Is that supposed to be the super intimidating counterpart? Don't make me laugh!", Face snorted, "Besides, the green monster would fit
the evil part way better! But I refuse conning houses for some kind of glibber mass!" Seriously. Nobel Peace Prize was no joke in this case.
Murdock eyeballed him for a short while and then turned back to Hannibal.
"Colonel." Hannibal blinked at the seriousness that had crept in the pilots face. "What's the matter, Captain?"
"I believe The Soap has brain-washed our friend. It has already begun!" Murdock whirled around again and took a deep breath.
"See? He's totally smelling like The Soap! We have to be careful!", he growled in his husky glibber monster voice.
"What?! I'm not-! Okay, I am! But that's because I just showered! Of course I smell like soap! Besides, we all do! And I'm kinda glad for that one!",
Face exclaimed and theatrically threw his hands in the air.
"He has a point there, Captain.", Hannibal chuckled and continued reading his newspaper whereas Murdock dropped, obviously disappointed,
on the sofa, muttering something like 'but don't come running afterwards, because I told you so'.
Face sighed – disaster hopefully averted – and smiled. It's been a while since they had a break like this and it was somewhat refreshing to just
slouch on the couch doing nothing. Being on the run seemed like a better idea than spending time in prison but all the same it was kind of annoying.
The last few days they had spent their share of sleep in the van, which was okay, but definitely not comfortable. Now, they simply were a film crew
sleeping over at their directors house – who was conveniently busy overseas right now - preparing for the coming shots. Right.
It didn't take long for Face to doze off and by the time he jerked out of his not-quite-but-almost slumber he excused himself and went to sleep.
After all it was dangerous to fall asleep in the open with pencils lying around and all that shit.
Some time later, Hannibal left with his two teammates' eyes still glued to the TV and after the game was over, B.A. decided to hit the sack.
A tad grumpier since the team he had rooted for had suffered a last-minute-defeat.
Murdock stared at the screen. Even though the fans were still screaming it had become rather quiet all of sudden. He tapped nervously to the beat
of the victory anthem that was now playing on TV and desperately tried to fight the urge to sing along, as loud as he could and just for the hell of it.
No, no, no can do. The others just went to bed so this was out of question. At least, the last few days, he'd had something to do.
Taking over the driving for a few hours at night, volunteering for watch, folding airplanes out of Hannibal's newspaper...
His gaze shifted to the table where the Colonel had left this day's news. Yes, yes, maybe. Maybe later. He had all the time in the world, after all.
That was great! GREAT! Because hey, there was so much to do! Saving the planet! Inventing a new language! Painting the moon in another color!
Murdock's eyebrow twitched. It sucked. Four days in a row and he just wanted to sleep.
Instead, he sat on a couch in the middle of the night and watched people trying to sell stuff on TV in a seemingly infinite loop.
And before he knew what he was about to do, his hand had reached for the phone and he found himself calling the hilariously big number on screen.