Chapter Text
Murdoc was awoken by a series of insistent knocks against the coffin-like instrument case he had taken to sleeping in. He tossed and turned, covering his ears, until he realized with a groan that the noise wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He pushed open the lid and sat up, seeking the source of his torment.
Ugh, it was 2-D. Of course. Murdoc glared at him.
"What."
"Noodle opened a portal, you've got ta come see."
Grumbling, Murdoc followed after 2-D, trying to match his long, leggy strides while simultaneously pulling on a shirt, a pair of jeans, and stumbling into his signature Cuban boots. His ability to get dressed in a flash? Token of a wild and illustrious sex life.
They arrived in the kitchen and found Russel and Noodle standing in front of a swirling portal. Murdoc rubbed his hands together eagerly.
"Where does it go?" asked Russel.
"I don't know," Noodle answered. "It just popped up while I was having breakfast." Warily, she touched it with her finger. 2-D leaned forward and stuck his head in.
“I fink it’s someone’s house,” he reported. “I don’t see anyone inside.”
“Well, go take a look!” Murdoc said, striking him with his palm. 2-D lost his balance and stumbled through the portal, disappearing in a flash.
“Murdoc!” Noodle said angrily. Russel put a hand over his face and shook his head. Murdoc smiled roguishly at them, rocking on his heels in front of the portal.
“Last one in has to wash my socks!”
He ran in.
***
The hardwood floor of the kitchen morphed into soft shag carpet, and the cool, damp smell of their flat was replaced with something skeezy and warm, with notes of body spray.
In his enthusiasm, Murdoc nearly crashed into a coffee table on his way in. He was standing in the middle of a shabby living room, decorated with yellow wallpaper, punk rock posters, and empty takeout boxes. Sure enough, no one else seemed to be around, other than 2-D, who was examining an antique plate.
Noodle and Russel followed through the portal shortly after Murdoc. Once they were through, it closed behind them instantly.
“Hey!” said Noodle, throwing her arm out toward it, but there was nothing there.
Russel sighed. “Thanks, chuckleheads,” he said, his stink eye reserved for Murdoc only, who was already making himself comfortable as he rustled through the fridge like some sort of gangrenous raccoon.
“Oh, come off it,” said Murdoc, waving the criticism away with one hand while he recovered a beer with the other. “Without me, your life would be nothing but drudgery and boredom.”
He snapped the cap off with his teeth, titled back the bottle, and drank.
“Without you,” said Noodle wearily, “we could have breakfast in peace.”
“And sleep through the night,” said Russel, glowering. “No rehearsals ‘till 2 am.”
“We even made an album,” said 2-D cheerily.
A loud crash sounded out. Murdoc had thrown his empty bottle against the wall, sending splinters of glass flying. Three pairs of eyes looked at him. He wiped his hand across his mouth and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Are you finished sucking yourselves off? Come on, we’ve got new haunts to explore.”