Hey! This story is Gorillaz fanfic #2000!

I thought of this a little while ago when I was practicing my accents, and decided it must be done. I hope you agree! This story takes place when 2D and Murdoc are at KONG, and Russel and Noodle are at a month-long chili-fest. Just thought I'd clear that up. Vote on my poll!

I sat slouched on the faded green sofa, staring intently at the television in front of me. I clutched the scratched-up remote tightly in my hands, slowly turning up the volume. I stole an annoyed glance at the singer sitting beside me. I had made the mistake of asking the teenager what he wanted to watch, and was now regretting it.

'Is he still talking?' I thought, my lip curling up slightly.

The singer had taken my simple verbal prompt and turned it in to an extensive one-sided conversation. First he stated his opinion on the selection of channels KONG received, then told me all (and I mean even the ones that he watched as a child, and were long since cancelled) the shows he liked. Now he was talking about the programmes he did not wish to view, and why.

'Geez.' I thought 'What is with this kid?'

2D was a strange kid. He would barely talk for days, even months. Then, at a completely random moment, he would jabber on about something. Half way through this exchange, he would seem to realize he talking, and abruptly end the conversation. The calmer residents of KONG were used to 2D's unpredictable bouts of conversation, and tried to carry them on for as long as they could. My approach of ignoring the singer was unappreciated by Noodle and Russel, while 2D didn't actually seem to care.

At this moment especially, 2D's warbley voice was only annoying me more. I turned the volume up a little higher, but the little twit's high voice insisted on breaking through. I gave up on the show I was watching, and started to actually listen to the singer (who continued to talk). I scrunched up my nose.

He was practically butchering the english language! Normally I would give him a pat on the back for such an accomplishment, but my mind just reeled at his atrocious accent. It was almost as bad as that nob Albarn's. I listened in a bit.

"..An' I don' rea'y like t'ose shows' about scarin' the shite ou'a 'elpless blokes. They don' evah even see it comin'! I woul' 'ate to..."

I tuned out again. He really couldn't talk properly, could he? It didn't really affect his singing voice, but I could barely stand it when he talked to me, rare as it was. Then it hit me. Where do you take someone to fix how they talk? (LIGHTBULB!)

"Oy faceache!" I yelled, interrupting his mini-rant.

He seemed a little shocked, and his mouth snapped shut. I could almost see the excited glow leave his face. Oops.. heh heh.. Don't tell Noodle.

"Get yer shite together, we're heading out!" I snapped.

The singer nodded, and ducked his head down. He shuffled off like a zombie, and I couldn't help snigger at the irony. 2D the zombie. Has a nice ring to it, yeah? The little twit had obviously gone into his 'quiet mode' again, and it would be all hell trying to get him to take part in what I had planned for him.

The twit in mention appeared near the couch again, and wordlessly alerted me of his presence.

"If anyone asks, faceache, I'm yer dad. Kapeesh?" I asked him, only to get his typical nodded reply.

I lifted my bones off the couch and turned the telly off. The teen still stood there, staring at me with his wide, black, puppy-eyes. I brushed my jeans off, and sniffed my shirt. Feh. Clean enough. I did a once over at 2D, and upon realizing that his clothes were undoubtedly cleaner than mine, I walked out of the room. Starting down the adjoining hall, I glanced behind to see if my 'son' was following me. He was, of course, but I wouldn't have been surprised if he got lost or something.

I briefly wondered what he had done when he left the room. What had he gotten? He still wasn't wearing a jacket, and he had shoes on when he left. Maybe he had gotten his wallet? He sure wouldn't need it where we were headed.

We turned down the hall to the main upstairs lobby, and walked to the lift. I stopped next to it, and waited for 2D to catch up. He walks pretty slow, despite his long legs. I think that maybe he's paranoid of tripping over his feet. The bigger they are, the farther they...umm... something.. Anyway, I pressed the 'down' button on the control panel, and a whirring sound resulted. 2D stared intently at the lift. He seemed to do that a lot, and I always wondered if he was like, willing it to explode or something. I thought of asking, but I doubt he would give me a good answer.

The lift arrived with a quiet 'ping' and the doors shuddered open. I walked forward and stepped in. The lift doors closed and I pressed a button marked 'car lot' on the panel. The button was sticky, and difficult to press. I immediately thought of 2D, and how he had probably found a way to spill juice on it or something. Wait... 2D! Where was he?

Okay...mental checklist:

- I got to the lift.. [x]

- 2D got to the lift.. [x]

- I pressed the button.. [x]

- Lift arrived and doors opened.. [x]

- I got in the lift.. [x]

- 2D got in the lift.. [ ]

2D never got in the lift! So was he still standing in front of it? I knew he was spacey, but that spacey? Apparently so. I looked at the lift panel and pressed the button marked 'Kitchen-TV room-Beer closet'. The lift stopped abruptly and switched directions, making me hit my head on the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Sodding lift.." I mumbled.

The lift or 'elevator' as the American blokes say, continued up for about half a minute, stopping occasionally to sputter or make cracking sounds. It jolted to a stop, and made another 'ping' sound. The doors opened revealing...

Nothing.

Where was he?! He could NOT be left alone in this place! At least not without Russel or Noodle home. I wondered if he snapped out of his daze and went looking for me, or perhaps purposely didn't get on the lift. I looked to the left and right of the lift, and scanned the adjacent hallways. He was absolutely nowhere to be found.

"OY! FACEACHE!" I shouted.

Silence.

"GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE...NOW!" I shouted again.

More silence.

"Dammit..." I mumbled.

Where was he? I started to get worried, despite myself. If anything happened to him, Russel and Noodle would kill me, and feed my remains to the zombies! I was getting a little worked up now, but I realized that 2D was not going to just impale himself on a knife, or feed himself to the zombies. He loved life too much for that. Well.. he was a pretty wierd kid. Maybe he was waiting for me in the car lot? Yeah, that was probably it.. I hoped..

I was about to enter the lift again, but decided against it. I walked down the hallway next to the lift, and stood at the foot of the stairs. I stepped down the first few stairs, and quickly ran down the rest... Ok, ok. I lied. I actually took the first step, then fell down the rest. Don't tell anyone! Anyway, once I got to the bottom of the stairs I brushed myself off and inspected my elbow. On the way down I had somehow managed to hit it pretty hard. It was not bleeding, thankfully.

I quick-jogged out of the stair-well. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears, deep, like it was playing a bass guitar of its own. I took a few gulped breaths, and jogged around the corner. The Winnebago was parked in one of the shadowy corners of the lot, as far away from 2D's room as possible. I dashed over to my Winne, and jiggled the door knob. It was locked, so 2D wasn't in there. Maybe he was in his room?

I glanced over at his room from the 'Bago, and rolled my eyes. So now I had to walk all the way over there? My life sucks. I decided that the quicker I found him, the better. I would find him, smack him upside the head, then drag him to the Geep. I jogged over to his room, and leaned up against a wall next to the door. Once I caught my breath, I knocked on his door.

"Er... you decent, faceache?"

No answer.

I shoved open the door, and almost tripped over one of his keyboards. I glanced around his room. He was not in his bead. I stuck my head in the bathroom, and the only thing I found was his toothbrush stuck to the sink. I would complain, but I am really in no position to talk about hygiene.

So where was 2D?

I was suddenly struck with an idea so obvious, I wanted to kick myself. I could call his mobile!That must have been what he had gotten when he left the room! I patted my front and back pockets for my mobile, but only found a pack of lucky lungs. Damn, must have left it in the Geep! I fast-walked to the Geep, and vaulted over the door. I landed with a thud on the seat, and a pen sitting on it. Long story short, I got stabbed in the arse.

I yanked open the glovebox, and shuffled around the receipts and CD's. No mobile. I checked the consel. Still nope. Aha! I remembered that the last time I had been in the Geep, I was drunk. So Russel had to drive, meaning my mobile was probably in the back! I turned around and looked in the back seat, and nearly had a heart attack!

2D was sprawled out on the seat, one of his feet resting on the open frame. His head was propped up on an armrest, and one of his hands was resting on his chest, while the other had fallen to rest on the ground. His chest was rising and falling evenly.

He was sleeping. I WAS SEARCHING ALL OVER FOR HIM AND HE WAS SLEEPING!? I lowered my head next to his ear.

"2D YOU STUPID GIT WAKE UP!" I hollered, and quickly backed up.

2D's head snapped up and he screamed. He kicked up his knee, and smacked himself on the lip. The teen stopped screaming and went rigid, his azure bangs covering his eyes. A small stream of blood trickled down his lip, and he slowly reached out a hand to it. He wiped his lip, and moved his hand away. He looked at it, then looked up at me. This action moved his hair away, and I could see that his eyes were impossibly wide. His gaze shifted from me back to his hand, and he wiped at his lip again.

"Owww..." he whimpered, and looked at me with wide, black, puppy-dog eyes.

His lip was still bleeding profusely, and showed no signs of stopping. It dripped down his chin, and was slowly making a trail down his neck. I realized that if it stained his shirt, we would have to go to his room and change it, and I might lose him again. I broke his gaze and turned around to the glovebox, rifling through it for a napkin. Finding one, I held it out to him, but he just stared at his hand.

I rolled my eyes (again) and reached out with the napkin. When I got the napkin on his lip, 2D twitched and came back to reality.

"Can you hold the stupid napkin? I have to grab a few more. Or is that too hard fer ya?" I said, but it came out more vicious than I intended.

He quickly nodded, and took the napkin from me, and held it on his lip. I grabbed another.

"Okay, now you take this one and get the stuff that's on yer neck, and I'll hold the one on yer lip. Comprende?" I asked.

He considered the spanish part for a bit, and switched napkins with me. He dabbed at the blood on his neck, and I held the napkin on his lip. Lucky for me, none got on his shirt. I removed the napkin from his lip, and waited for a bit. No more blood came out, and I nodded, satisfied. I wrapped the two napkins in a third, and tossed the on the passenger seat.

"Wot took ya so long? I couldn' find ya, so I walk'd to te' Geep and wai'ed, for like, an hour or somfink!" 2D said.

I pulled they key out of my pocket and put it in the ignition. Sighing, I turned it and looked in the mirror.

"You spaced out again, and didn't get in the lift. I didn't notice until it was halfway down, so I went looking all over the place for you, ya dullard!"

I remembered what had initially brought me to the Geep, and decided to use it against him.

"Why didn't you call me' mobile?"

"I did," he replied, not missing a beat. "It's in te' cup holder."

"Huh. So it is."

2D had me there.

"Well then. Buckle up, we're heading out!"

2D sat up, and did up his seatbelt.

"Can I sit up in te' front?" he asked hopefully.

"Well of course. NOT! Hrmhrmrh hrmhrmr.."

He huffed and crossed his arms, giving me an irritated look. I rolled my eyes and started the car. We sped out the car park towards the tall metal gates marked "KONG". Before we left completely, I tossed 2D's bloody napkins to the zombies, and earned a horrified look from the twit himself.

"Would you rather eat 'em?" I asked, and he gagged.

"That's what I thought." I mumbled.

Hey! Gorillaz fanfic #2000! OMG!

I have a few more chapters written out, so review! I need at least 5 reviews to continue. At least.