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After Clint Eastwood won Best Song at the MTV Europe Music Awards, the band made their way to the after-party. All four of them agreed it felt strange, but at least the awkward speech was over. Murdoc, who had given the speech, held it together until 2D belched, then he finished with a nod to Satan. With that, they headed inside.
The after-party is lively, unlike the awards show. The band enters. Murdoc grabs a cocktail and slides between two women. He throws an arm around each. He grins, soaking in the attention, but briefly remembers hitting 2D with his car. Then he brushes it off. Who would have guessed a crash would land them here? Spotting 2D at the bar, Murdoc sneers. He's determined to take charge. The rest of the band drifts off.
After five vodkas and four beers, Murdoc's definitely drunk. People stared at him from the middle of the room, but he ignored them. The women leaned closer. He grinned, showing his sharp teeth as he hugged their waists. He felt a thrill. Suddenly, someone grabs his shoulder. He turns around, tense.
"Mudz, I'm taking Noodle back to the hotel," Russel announces, pausing by the couch. Murdoc scowls at the interruption.
"Yeah, yeah, off you go," Murdoc mutters, barely sparing his drink a glance. Noodle doesn't bother looking up from her Game Boy, yawning behind her hand.
"So...," Russel points at the bar, "Take care of D, will you?"
Babysit 2D? Typical. Murdoc isn't anyone's errand boy; he's in charge. He rolls his eyes, ready for trouble:
"Yeah? Not my job, mate. Let him rot—we both know I did my time when he was a vegetable—" Murdoc snaps.
Murdoc's rant trails off as Russel's stare grows more intense. The mood shifts; Murdoc's playful attitude gives way to tension. Murdoc feels a mix of pride and fear, his heart racing as a memory of past failures flickers through his mind. He imagines the potential loss of respect, a haunting echo of when his own bandmates questioned his decisions back at Kong Studios. It's a sharp reminder that his authority isn't unshakeable. What if he couldn't maintain control? What if his bandmates saw him faltering and turned their backs? He realises Russell probably wouldn't make a scene as he did back there, which brought some relief, though it's mixed with resentment. Murdoc let out a breath and slumped, unsettled by the tense atmosphere. Beneath his exterior, a moment of vulnerability whispered doubts about his self-worth, leaving him feeling exposed and uneasy.
Russel waves goodbye, leaving with Noodle. Murdoc shoves past the women, scowl deepening. Of course—2D always ruins things for him; tonight, his night is spoiled yet again.
"Oi! Faceache!" Murdoc barks. 2D spins around, laughing at some stranger, bug eyes wider than ever. Murdoc hesitates, the unspoken command hanging in the air. His mouth twitches before he continues more quietly, "Get over here." The authority remains strong, even in the silence.
After stumbling from their barstool and falling to the floor, Murdoc walks over and helps them stand.
"For a love of sweet satan, you're a right old pain in the arse!"
2D snorts. "Oi, Murdoc! Did me wind sssound like raspberries, or what?" they slurr, vodka-lime on their breath. Murdoc squeezes 2D's arms—not that it makes them react in any way.
"Yeah, alright, let's fix you up..."
Murdoc snatches a beer and pulls 2D by the wrist. Party noise fades as they enter the cool night, leaving the club's warmth. Streetlights cast long shadows. Distant music thumps, echoing Murdoc's internal chaos. Scowling, he drinks and gripes about his ruined night, squeezing 2D's wrist until 2D yelps. At the exit, Murdoc fumes, plotting his next move as they vanish into darkness.
*
Outside, Frankfurt's cold changes the mood. The smell of stale beer clings to them, a sharp contrast to the party's chaos. Both go silent. 2D rubs a sore cheek as Murdoc's anger lingers. The alcohol stings in the brisk air, heightening tension. Murdoc, still upset, orders 2D to walk, his voice harsh behind his guilt. Wind chills tighten 2D's chest. When 2D stumbles, Murdoc's scowl softens into a crooked grin. He loosens his grip and offers a beer. Handing over the drink acts as an olive branch. They walk the city, their steps slow, tension fading with a glimmer of hope.
As night falls in Frankfurt, Murdoc and 2D wander down quieter streets. Their laughter was awkward at first, but soon it helped ease the tension between them. It could be the drinks or just being together. Murdoc wouldn't admit he likes 2D's company, but he looks more relaxed. When he sees a lit-up kiosk ahead, his mood improves—more drinks are waiting. 2D's excitement grows, and a genuine smile replaces any leftover conflict.
Later, after a few more drinks and with cigarettes in hand, Murdoc smirked, enjoying the sense of freedom. 2D was surprised to hear Murdoc laugh and wished they could make this moment last. They find a bench and sit down, looking at the calm Main River while the city noise fades away. The breeze makes them both shiver.
"Freezing," Murdoc grumbles, yanking up his collar. He shoves a cigarette in his mouth, flicks the lighter, and growls, "Hope this lights me insides."
"Well... November has come, hasn't it?" 2D murmurs, eyes on the river.
Murdoc glances at 2D, then looks away. He flicks the ash from his cigarette and then nudges the pack over to 2D, a silent offering that says more than words. For a moment, he really sees 2D—blue hair blown by the wind, a red nose from the cold, and tiredness showing on their face. A strange ache settles in Murdoc's chest. Feeling restless and unsure, he mumbles, "Oi, Dents! My Winnie. Aerosmith. Filthiest record ever. You in?"
2D finally notices, and their face breaks into a wide, innocent grin, gap-toothed and open. Murdoc's chest fills with nerves and a burst of promise. "Course I'm in, Murdoc! You kidding? Chuffed to bits!" 2D exclamations, excitement melting the last of Murdoc's tension, warmth flickering up in an unexpected, bashful rush.
Murdoc blinks, realising he'd invited 2D without really thinking it through. He doesn't take it back; 2D's goofy smile makes him relax. After a fun walk at midnight, why not keep the night going at his beloved Winnie, even if it was usually just for hookups? That decided it. Like a little tradition, they both use a bush before heading to the Winnebago.
*
Much later, after wandering out of Frankfurt's centre and leaving the city lights behind, the streets were empty. Murdoc led the way to his beloved Winnebago, his heart beating fast. He could have booked a hotel—he has the money now—but he wanted the comfort of his Winnebago. That's why he drove from the UK instead of flying, while the rest of the band took the bus. He felt at ease behind the wheel and couldn't sleep without his own sheets. The old mattress fits him just right, like a gentle hug. The Winnebago is more than just a vehicle; it's his private escape, a place where he can relax.
Inside the Winnebago, a new mood settles over the typical jumble. The shift from the outside world to Murdoc's lair is apparent. Dust-caked clothes, bottles, cans, an overflowing ashtray, torn condom wrappers, and garbage litter the space. For 2D, everything feels comfortable. When 2D stepped in, Murdoc welcomed them and grabbed two beers from the mini fridge. 2D scans the mess. It's home, easing their longing for Kong Studios. They think of their own cluttered UK room.
"Oi, proper chinwag now—none of that Zielgermanski crap. Real deal, London Pride!" Murdoc declares, slamming a beer into 2D's hand and raising his own.
"Cheers," 2D replies. They toast and take a generous gulp of their drink.
2D looks for somewhere to sit. There's a clean spot by the bed, so they sit on the floor and slouch against it. Murdoc watches as 2D stretches out their long legs, about to sit down too. Then he remembers why he had invited 2D to his Winnie:
Murdoc puts the tape in and glances at 2D. As 'Beyond Beautiful' by Aerosmith starts, Murdoc hesitates, unsure whether to draw closer or keep the distance. The song fills the air. It creates a gentle tension between them. Their eyes meet briefly. For a moment, both seem anchored by a mix of nerves and anticipation. 2D raises their drink, breaking the silent spell. Murdoc inches slightly closer. When their knees finally touch, it feels electric. It's like bridging a gap between their uncertainties. Murdoc feels nervous. Being so close makes him pause. He feels both unsure and wanting more. 2D feels how fragile they both are. Every touch feels exciting. Lost in the moment, the song fades as both wait, unsure what would happen next.
Murdoc jiggles his knee, tapping his bottle. Surrounded by clutter, he feels exposed. Past flings never brought this kind of unease. 2D drinks too, breathless at Murdoc's nearness.
"Nice song. What's it called?" 2D asks, voice faint.
Murdoc turns. "Beyond Beautiful," he says, the answer hanging with double meaning as he stares at 2D, not just looking but admiring them.
"Oh..." 2D feels Murdoc's eyes, full of admiration, which they aren't used to. They look down, cheeks burning. Excited and unsettled, 2D notices Murdoc pause, then gently tuck a strand behind their ear. 2D gasp, surprised by the gentleness. When Murdoc's fingers stroke their neck, both realise the alcohol lowered their guard—this kind of gentleness wouldn't happen sober.
Murdoc snickers, earning 2D's curiosity.
"Mad, innit? Those babes earlier—couldn't hold a candle to you," Murdoc quips, tilting his head, fingers tangling more in 2D's hair.
"Y-yeh..." 2D's blush deepens.
"Shit, that party was tragic," 2D laughs at Murdoc's honesty and openness. "Better this way, yeah? Just us two—proper fun."
When Murdoc slides his hand along 2D's neck, confidence returns, but falters when 2D doesn't flinch. Instead, they purr and bite their lip. Murdoc isn't planning to hurt him, but wants a reaction. Pulling 2D closer by the neck, surprise widens 2D's eyes. They squeal, heads pressed together, ready for Murdoc's whisper. For a brief moment, 2D remembers Murdoc's history of cruelty, the sharp words and harsher actions that had left scars. Yet here, in this fragile silence, they balance on a knife's edge, knowingly risking emotional turmoil for an uncertain promise.
"Still, you owe me a shag, dullard." Murdoc's hot breath sends a chill through 2D, turning their ear crimson. The words are daring, yet underneath the bravado is a hesitant hunger. 2D squirms, caught between uncertainty and anticipation, as Murdoc's hand lands on their knee, making them flinch. Murdoc growls, his cockiness wavering into nervous hope. "How are we gonna sort this out, eh?" he asks, his familiar cunning now interlaced with tentative longing as his hand moves up.
2D's hands grip the bottle tightly, their dark eyes watching Murdoc's hand on their thin leg. It feels exciting, making them whine in a way Murdoc likes. Yet 2D's mind churns with uncertainty. Should they be here, considering the past? What if they made a mistake? What if this was one of Murdoc's mean jokes, just to embarrass 2D? Or worse, get hit. But as Murdoc looks at them, his gaze is softer than before, and 2D feels an unexpected sense of calm settle over them. Breathing deeply, they realise that they want this, at least to explore what it could mean. There's only one way to find out what Murdoc really wants. 2D could handle getting hit, but couldn't take much more touching without getting turned on.
The beer bottle flies somewhere, spilling what's left and becoming one of many items of dirt in Murdoc's dumpster-Winniebago. Not that it matters. Not to Murdoc or 2D, who had wrapped arms around Murdoc's neck and pressed their lips against Murdoc's. 2D's eyes are shut tight, afraid to open and witness the possible damage they had made once again. But Murdoc didn't push them away, he is more surprised than anything; Sweet satan, ain't he done the business, Murdoc thinks. It's a simple, long kiss. Murdoc's chapped lips fit perfectly against 2D's like a missing puzzle piece. Recovering from the kiss, 2D leans back, arms still hanging loosely around Murdoc. They pant as if they had just run after a bus, forgetting to breathe from nervousness.
"M'sorry, Murdoc... I'm gutted about ruining your naff night out. Can I make it up to ya, Murdoc? Please..." 2D frowns, their pitch-black eyes drowning Murdoc deep into them.
The idea was clear-cut: Get drunk and find someone to spend the night with. Despite some misfortune on the way, Murdoc got what he wanted. He's hammered, and the frontman of his own band is clinging to him, pleading. 2D might be the opposite of Murdoc's usual type, but the way they're whining and grinding against Murdoc's thigh is intoxicating. It reminds him of the eager fans at the front row of their gigs, desperate for a taste. For Murdoc, this is pure delight.
Murdoc grins, grabbing a fistful of 2D's hair and pulling them in for a kiss. A tiny peck isn't enough for Murdoc; he needs to bruise 2D's lips with his. He needs to shove his unnaturally long tongue down their throat. He needs to bite 2D's lower lip with his fangs. In contrast to their kiss, 2D's eyes are wide at first, but then their lids fall heavy from the strange pleasure they hadn't felt before. Their hands grab for the closest thing, which is Murdoc's shirt. Like a hungry beast, Murdoc grunts into the kiss; he craves more.
Murdoc lets 2D catch a break by pulling back after tasting their addictive mouth for a while. He can't hold back the grin, licking his lips at the scene in front of him.
"You're a good lad, ain't ya? Let's see how sorry you truly are..."
*
The sheets smell musty, even though they look clean—Murdoc's so-called 'Egyptian silk'. The window is covered with a pirate flag, and a pin-up poster gazes down at the scene. Murdoc, above 2D, pinned their wrists to the mattress, keeping them from wriggling free. 2D whines as Murdoc explores their neck with his tongue, sending a shiver through them as he begins to suck. Murdoc loves marking his territory; biting soon followed, drawing a trembling gasp from 2D. Their legs press together, the friction fueling the tension between them.
Once done, Murdoc lifts his head to see his work of art. He's made tons of hickeys, but wow...this might be his masterpiece — the whole galaxy had appeared on 2D's pale neck.
"Oh, Stu.." Murdoc admires, his voice subdued and eyes dark from lust.
Hearing their birth name makes 2D's heart skip a beat, and the atmosphere feels much more intimate. They shift their knee between Murdoc's legs, rubbing his hard-on that's dying to be released from the fabric prison. Murdoc grunts from the contact; seeing how pleased 2D looks right now, it seems they're challenging him. Fuck, the things he'd love to do to his singer... His cock buried inside 2D's warm mouth, bite marks covering their bony frame, 2D riding- he better stop before making a mess in his jeans. They'll do those things the next time.
Next time? Murdoc shakes his head and returns to the moment, unwilling to sober up. He releases 2D's wrists and slides his hands beneath their t-shirt, inching it up until their chest is exposed. 2D feels vulnerable under Murdoc's gaze, a soft whimper escaping as Murdoc's fingers brush over sensitive nipples, then trace down to their ribs.
"Got a bit excited when my tongue was on your throat, didn't you? You'll be surprised what else I've got, luv..." Murdoc grins, lowering himself between 2D's hips, letting his tongue trace over their bulge while steadying them with his hands.
Murdoc lingers over 2D's bulge, drawing out the tension as their eyes meet in silent communication. 2D bucks their hips in anticipation until Murdoc finally begins working their jeans down, impatient for what was to come.
2D hisses as they're freed from their jeans, head tipping back into the sheets. Murdoc teases them, blowing a cool breath over their erection, watching it twitch in response. With a sly grin, he finally wraps his tongue around 2D's shaft. 2D's breath caught, then spilt out in a high moan as they prop themselves up and surrender to the sensation.
Murdoc watches every reaction—each sound and expression. His sharp gaze meets 2D's black-rimmed eyes, and for once, kindness edges his touch. He could drag this out, keep 2D squirming, but his patience is gone. One hand pumps 2D's cock, the other drifting as he pauses his mouth, a new idea forming.
"Can you pass me the jelly? It's under the pillow behind you." Murdoc waits, reaching a hand.
"Are ya gonna whip out that upside-down rubber cross you mentioned on stage?"
2D smirks, sticking their tongue out, and grabbing the lube under the worn pillow. Murdoc didn't like that, and after 2D handed him the tiny bottle, their cock received a tight squeeze, resulting in a yelp from the singer.
"Watch your gob, dullard!" Murdoc presses 2D's sensitive tip with his sharp fingernail, earning a delicious-sounding wail from the poor singer. Click. The bottle's cap is open. 2D had shut their eyes; the punishment they received was the result. Eventually, Murdoc's grip on them loosens, but they are soon met with another, even more intense feeling. As if a lightning bolt had struck them, 2D's eyes flew open to see that their jeans and briefs were missing. But that isn't what got the reaction out of them; it's Murdoc's finger inside them. When did he do this? Did I pass out for a second? 2D wonders, but all that comes out of their mouth are moans.
It's so tight. It never fails to amaze Murdoc how much tighter asses are compared to the other hole. And this isn't simply anybody's ass he's fingering; it's 2D's. Perhaps that's the reason his stomach is twisting and burning eagerly. The same can be said about his ever-growing erection. Murdoc decides to be extra nice and return to suck 2D's cock, his free hand working the base.
2D, overstimulated, throws their head back, and cries out. They reach to grab Murdoc's raven dark hair, conflicted if they should pull him away or fuck his face. For now, they'll stick with pulling his hair.
"Oi, Murdoc! Pack it in, yeah? I'll go off if ya keep that up!" 2D gasp, voice trembling.
Murdoc pulls away, licking precum on his way. "Mmmh... Wouldn't want that, now, would we, eh?"
He only reached two fingers, but it just had to do; his cock dying to meet 2D's tight hole.
*
More clothes are thrown on the floor around the Winniebago. Murdoc strips himself in front of 2D, giving them a little show, only leaving their inverted cross necklace, obviously. He got rid of 2D's t-shirt, as it was the last piece of clothing left on their body. It's gonna be a sweaty ride, so why bother wearing anything?
Murdoc took a firm hold of 2D's waist, pulling it onto his lap for better access. Loud drumming filled 2D's ear; it's not the band's drummer, but their very own heart making the beats. They watch how Murdoc coats his manhood with lots of lube. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes are asking 2D if they're ready, to which 2D answers with a gulp and a slight nod.
Supporting 2D by placing a hand underneath their lower back, Murdoc positions himself. He knocks on the door, opens it, and takes a measured step forward. A deep groan escapes Murdoc's lips. The entrance is warm, but so, so tight. There's still a long way to go before entering completely. 2D's struggling. They're wailing, eye watering from the uncomfortable visit by a stranger.
"Ow, ow! That hurts!" They squeak, "Murdoc..."
"Keep your trap shut, yeah? You're doing great, D, no worries... Let Murdie take care of ya..."
Just like he said, Murdoc wraps a hand around 2D's member. He would never let his hookups leave dissatisfied, and he must prove that to 2D, too. If he keeps beating 2D's meat, they'll hopefully relax their muscles and let Murdoc in further. While soothing his singer, their reactions gradually come back to a positive state. Finally, he won't deny it; his patience is running low.
Murdoc sinks deeper into 2D, breath turning ragged. It's good, but he needs more. 2D gasps, overwhelmed as Murdoc fills them, clutching at the sheets. Their neck is a canvas for Murdoc's mouth as he presses in, leaving another trail of heat along their skin.
'Just Push Play' cassette side A comes to an end, but the music doesn't stop there. 2D and Murdoc are creating an exclusive, one-time song. 2D wails the melody, and Murdoc keeps the rhythm as he slams inside and out of his beautiful singer. Beautiful, beyond gorgeous, that's what they are. Murdoc straightens himself after leaving a few more hickeys around 2D's neck.
A significant number of fans would die to take Murdoc's place and taste the beloved frontman of the world-famous music group. The fans go nuts for 2D; throw underwear on the stage or sneak into the dressing room, and yet, here they are instead: screwed by the band's bassist and chanting his moniker similar to a spell. Murdoc should consider himself lucky to own 2D for the night, but as he looks down at them, a mix of irritation and longing bubbles inside him. Yes, he has his share of groupies, but that wasn't what got to him. Murdoc feels he had to play the game of Snakes and Ladders to claw his way to where he is today, but all that 2D needed was a hyphema, fine features, and an angelic voice to be a superstar. Despite all the bravado, there's a part of Murdoc that envies 2D's effortless charm and magnetism. It was as though 2D glided through life on a breeze of admiration and adoration, the world unfolding at their feet, as if life had dealt 2D an easy hand from the start, while Murdoc had always been forced to fight for every scrap of attention and respect. At times, Murdoc caught himself thinking how different things would be if he could trade places, imagining a life where he didn't have to scheme and sweat for every shred of acknowledgement. The realisation gnaws at him, teasing an undercurrent of inadequacy he despises acknowledging. This silent envy, lurking beneath his self-assured facade, whispered doubts about his own worthiness and ability to captivate others as effortlessly as 2D.
Murdoc can't stand looking at 2D's face any longer. Abruptly, he pulls out, leaving 2D empty and confused. He flips them onto their stomach, hoisting their hips up before 2D could protest. Murdoc presses their face into the mattress and tangles his fingers in their hair, keeping them from turning back. 2D's moans are muffled as Murdoc thrusts in again, their bodies fitting together in a raw, urgent rhythm.
Winniebago is filled with the lingering sounds of rough sex. Unfortunately, the lewd noises aren't loud enough to keep Murdoc's thoughts away. He can't stop wondering if 2D's ever bottomed for someone before. What are they like with birds? What about blokes? Murdoc let go of 2D's hair, to scratch his nails down their back. 2D arches their back and gasp sensually, as well as for air. 'Slut’, Murdoc scoffs and smirks. He likes to imagine he took their butt-virginity. Whether it's true or not, it doesn't matter; it just riles him up.
Murdoc keeps his claws on 2D's hips and leans down to growl into their ear: "You're a right trollop, aren't you? I'm stunned my todger managed to squeeze into that scrawny bum of yours," he slaps 2D's buttock, earning a high note out of them. "But, as they say, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, if you catch my drift?"
"M-Murdoc-"
Before 2D could form a sentence, they sigh as their neglected member receives attention. Murdoc is giving them a generous wank, while his nails dig deeper into flesh at their hips. 2D struggles supporting themself with their weak arms and not sinking back into the mattress, but what's the use when Murdoc decides to bite their shoulder suddenly.
2D's eyelids have gone impossibly heavy, so they'll just let them close. "Yes, oh hell yes! That's proper lush, Muds! M’ gonnaagh- ahh!”
"Just come, Stu. No need to be a cheeky monkey..." Murdoc mutters close to 2D's ear like a tempting snake of the Garden of Eden.
Without any warning, 2D ejaculates on both Murdoc's hand and the sheets, a new addition to the vague stains on his nest. The note that 2D sings from the pure orgasm is worth gold, but the clenching around Murdoc's cock is platinum worthy. He quickens the pace, ears ringing from 2D's climax, and sweaty skins slapping against each other. Since Murdoc has to settle for second place, he'll end the steamy private gig his own way.
He'll definitely regret this whole night in the morning, and hopefully, 2D will do. You don't go fooling around with bandmates; that's the standard rule. Also, 2D can't expect better treatment just because Murdoc happened to be pleasantly buzzed and extremely horny. This might have been a one-time thing, or maybe not, but Murdoc feels the weight of uncertainty as a quiet throbbing in his chest. It's not just about breaking the rules; it's about what happens next. Their dynamic could be skewed, complicating rehearsals and recording sessions, and a shadow of tension could creep into future performances. If Murdoc ever gets caught up in a similar situation with 2D, maybe they'd go for a round two. But also, what if this changes how 2D perceives him? Threatens his authority within the band? He tries to focus on the present, ignoring the potential tremors beneath the surface of their band's cohesion. Yet the questions remain, lingering uncomfortably, making him realise that tonight's actions could redefine everything moving forward.
Murdoc's fingers wrap around 2D's marked throat. The mild choking is pretty vanilla to Murdoc's kinkier taste, but at least he gets to hear 2D gasping. Bit dramatic, Murdoc thinks, for a tender hold. Still, it works like magic, and soon he's bending forward over weary 2D. He growls a rich moan and fills 2D with his seed. The throbbing member inside the singer makes them spam in response. For a moment, there are fireworks and haziness. Once the post-nut clarity sets in, Murdoc pulls away and lets go of 2D, who instantly drops to their belly like a ragdoll.
Where are the cigarettes? Murdoc has never been one to cuddle after a shag — he's allergic to that kind of intimacy. Jackpot! British cigarettes spotted at the nightstand. Murdoc grabs the package and lighter, hurrying to light the poison he's been addicted to since adolescence. He sits at the edge of the bed, looking straight ahead, but staring at his mess is all too familiar. So, he turns around to check on 2D, a cigarette steadily between his lips.
2D's lying on their side, back facing Murdoc. They're quiet.
Faint redness around 2D's neck, a couple of hickeys, a bite, and scratch marks cover their pale skin. Not to mention the mess that's dripping out of them, this is usually the part where Murdoc throws his hookup out like a used condom. 2D shouldn't be an exception, but they're in Frankfurt and 2D's...well, 2D. What if the muppet mistakes a trash can for a hotel room and falls asleep there? Or worse, gets lost and freezes to death.
Now he's just worrying and caring a bit too much for his singer.
Murdoc pulls a cigarette from the pack and offers it to 2D. "Fancy a fag?"
"Mmhm."
Only a mutter from 2D, since he's way too beat to speak. They take the cigarette and tuck it behind their ear, planning to smoke later.
2D returns to lie on the side. If only they could sleep..., but they can't. The migraines are on their way to torment the tired singer. Murdoc isn't planning on sleeping either. He's sobering up, and his head is getting loud with conflicting thoughts. There's still some alcohol left, the beer he was chugging with 2D and a few more London Pride inside the mini fridge. He lifts the room-temperature beer from the floor and gulps it down. The next plan is to get blacked out drunk and pass out anywhere but his own bed; 2D can have it this time. Let this be his final good deed.