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BacktoBass — Pirate Radio April-ish 2011
by-nc-nd
Published: 2011-04-10 08:13:59 +0000 UTC; Views: 979; Favourites: 25; Downloads: 38
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Description
Well, April-ish has come and gone and the updates to the gorillaz.com Plastic Beach game have been completed. The mission has been completed and now Murdoc can relax a bit, having put out his fifth Pirate Radio broadcast to huge accolades from his adoring fans.Time to kick back and take in a rum.
Murdoc Niccals remains the property of Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett.
Drawn in pencil, scanned, tidied up in Adobe Photoshop and coloured, dropped into the Plastic Beach Lighthouse scene.
First time I've done this, I'm stoked with how well it came out
And colouring using a mouse is a real PITA. I GOTTA get a tablet!
Related content
Comments: 80
Aw no way, Shinohida, put yours up too! There is enough love to go around...please?
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Hello.. I already uploaded it! What do you think?
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WOW, it's superb! Thank you for posting it! It's so cool! See, similar location, but very different idea, so great work!
Great minds think alike, I guess :wink:
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His expression says "Wanna listen? I know you do..."
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Exactly! He's mellow for a change!
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WHAT! There's a 5th one? Holy, crap I never check! Usually Spyder keeps me updated...damn, I'm so behind on everything!
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You have to finish the PB game Mission 2 to get your reward - to hear the 5th Broadcast
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Boooooo! I REFUSE! I've never finished a damn thing in my entire life that wasn't a grade level or a dessert, and I'm damn sure not gonna start now! I HAVE MY PRINCIPLES!
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Well, in that case, cut and paste this into your web browser and you can listen without having to lift a finger!
Pirate Radio Broadcast No. 5
[link] {a5719c13-f5ff-4522-af41-a4991dabe120}/{f4636f03-acf5-4f72-8fdc-88b3f77a6828}/PirateRadio_5_full-the-fall.mp3
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I couldn't open it..the link was error...
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Aw, darn. Sorry. Try this one, then:
[link]
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Okay, this one worked.
Look at my scraps folder, I need to show you what it got me.
FREAKED THE HELL OUT IS WHAT IT GOT ME!
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Uh, that is actually kind of eerie... 8*
Great broadcast, though, eh?
Murdoc: Did you expect anything less?
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I couldn't sit still long enough to listen to it.
It's gonna be one of those nights...mornings...whatever.
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Murdoc: No you don't.
Hell: No, I really don't, it's not working. Says I don't have permision.
Murdoc: Exactly. You can listen to the short version.
Hell: Fine, I will!
Murdoc: Fine, do it!
Hell: I already am!
Murdoc: Good!
Hell: It IS!
Murdoc: FINE!
Hell: RIGHT!
Murdoc: RRRGH! *tackles me, noogies* Nerrrrrrrrrrd!
Hell: Ack! Mad assasin!
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Murdoc: I'm not an assassin, I'm a pirate, didn't you listen? That's MY pirate radio broadcast, from MY island which makes me Pirate Chief. You need MY permission to hear that.
Hell: *held tightly* So, can I listen to it, then?
Murdoc: *lowering head to grin evilly* Mmmm, I think a little more persuasion may be necessary, this sort of thing doesn't just happen you know. There's a lot of behind the scenes stuff that happens before it all goes live, you know.
Hell: *looking up at Murdoc* Well something just happened behind the scenes.
Murdoc: That would be the lead in announcement.
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Hell: Oooh, hey, I just thought of something.
Murdoc: Oh?
Hell: Yeah. You're at just the right height.
Murdoc: Ohh. Right, what is it?
Hell: Reverse Spider-man!
Murdoc: I'm not at the right height for that. And that move's copyrighted, who'd you hear about it from?
Hell: Wha? No, I meant this-*tip-toes, arches her neck back*
Murdoc: *amused* Oh, haha. Nerd. *bends neck, extends tounge, kisses*
Hell: *is happy*
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D'awww, that is so cute....
Murdoc: *growling* I am NEVER cute. EVER.
Hell: Tish posh! What about that time you -
Murdoc: *indignant* STOP! STOP! What are you trying to do? Destroy my hellraiser image?!
Hell: *puzzled* But you said -
Murdoc: *growling* Hush! Or you'll be on kitchen duty again.
Hell: I'm always on kitchen duty!
Murdoc: Yes, you are. And on cleaning duty, and Winnebago duty too.
Hell: *narrows eyes* Yeah, and I don't get paid for that either.
Murdoc: Rubbish. You get paid in kind. And in full.
Hell: I said 'paid' not 'laid'
Murdoc: You nerds and your quibbling over terms.
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Hell: Whatever. I think she meant I was cute.
Murdoc:...
Hell: What now?
Murdoc: Well why not me?
Hell: What? You...y- *turns around, grabs his shirt* MAKE SENSE, DAMN YOU! MAAAAAAAAKE SENNNNNNNNNNNSE!
Murdoc: Stoppit! This is one of the ones I wear when I'm being sued!
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I'm pretty sure Murdoc is cute in his own unique way....
Hell: You thinking straight, here? What the hell is even REMOTELY cute about this absolute and utter reprobate?
Murdoc: I can lick my eyebrows.
Hell: Yep, that'll work.
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Hell: Wait...do you even have eyebrows?
Murdoc: What?
Hell: I mean I've never seen them.
Murdoc: *scoffs* You would if you'd keep your eyes open.
Hell: *defensive* I TOLD YOU THAT COULDN'T BE HELPED.
Murdoc: *pinches my cheek* Aww, hawhaw...
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Hell: *sighing* Anyway...what were we talking about again?
Murdoc: How great in bed I am?
Hell: *sideways glance* Hmmm, yes, well....
Murdoc: Admit it! You've never had better.
Hell: Excluding the washing machine on the spin cycle?
Murdoc: *growling* I'm better than any bloody household appliance
Hell: Well, you are impossible to turn off.
Murdoc: Wanna go for a spin? Heh heh
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Hell: *gasp* I have to do another load of clothes, omygosh,d'youwannnahavesexonthedryercanwecanwecanwe,pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?
Murdoc: *being an ass-hole* Mmmm, I don't know...that seems a little...ehhh. *does that wavey hand motiong thing that accompanies not thinking something's a good idea*
Hell: Come on! Murdoc! You...I've been wanting to do that for like foreverrrrrrrr, you know that!
Murdoc: *rolls eyes upwards* It's just not my style...
Hell: *leans on him hands first* Yes it is! *pulls at his arms* C'mon, please?
Murdoc: Please what?
Hell: Do you want me to say "please sir", or do you want me to say "please come have sex with me on the dryer"?
Murdoc: *thinks* Both. And I think "fuck" would be a better term.
Hell: *grumbles* Will you please come...farkh me on the dryer, sir?
Murdoc: *sing-song* You aren't ennounciating...
Hell: I hate you so much right now.
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Murdoc: Still waiting....
Hell: *in a huff* So am I.
Murdoc: Alright, you can leave off the 'sir'
Hell: *looking up with narrowed eyes* Oh...kay...
Murdoc: And use "my Lord and Master"
Hell: Not on your nellie.
Murdoc: Not on your dryer, then
Hell: *seething* OUUH! You are infuriating!
Murdoc: You are salivating
Hell: Oh COME ON, MURDOC!
Murdoc: Well you could but you keep prevaricating.
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Hell: *takes a deep breath*
Murdoc: Ah. As much as I like the image of you deeply inhaling, you aren't gonna get this all out in one blurt. I want to hear each individual word, and I want you to sound like you mean it.
Hell: *sighs out her held breath*
Murdoc: *dramatically looks at his left wrist*
Hell: *seethes, relents* Please...come...
Murdoc: Look me in the eye.
Hell: Wha-REALLY?!?
Murdoc: No, this has all been an elaborate joke.
Hell: *whines* Murdoc...
Murdoc: Time's a wasting...
Hell: *looks him in the eye, clenches her fists* Please come...fuck me on the clothes dryer...my lord and master.
Murdoc: *pats my head, leads me off* Was that so hard?
Hell: *weakly* Do they grow tea in China?
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- a significant time later -
Hell: *satisfied in all senses of the word* Oh...wow....
Murdoc: *grinning* Yeah, you love it.
Hell: Ooooooooooohh.... Mmmmmmmmmmm
Murdoc: *growling* Go on, take it out....
Hell: *bliss* There is nothing like a warm towel fresh from the dryer.
Murdoc: Told you I'd make it through the entire spin cycle. Worth the anguish, then?
Hell: *nodding* Ooh, yes....
Murdoc: Say "Yes my Lord and Master"
Hell: *still blissed out* Too much of a mouthful at the moment.
Murdoc: Sorry.
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Damned if that isn't exactly the way I react to warm towels. Too bad I have a communal laundry room.
You think there's no one there, you're enjoying yourself and your linens, and then BAM, the door opens and it's like a shitload of people and you have to think up a song with soul sista' type vocals in it to hum in order to save face. I HATE living here!
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I don't even own a dryer (shock horror) and in fact, soft towels don't do it for me. I like 'em scratchy.
Murdoc: Heh heh I'll bet. Like it hard eh?
Fynsie: *growling* Mmmmm, yes.....
Murdoc: *opens washing machine and puts in too many towels* Right. Come here, you...
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Haha, my towels are still scratchy, but that's because they're cheap. But you won't hear me complaining. The soft ones are only good for small children and people with sunburns.
-
Hell: I was planning on sitting here and enjoying the residual warmth of the dryer, actually.
Murdoc: *glare*
Hell: But plans change, and now I'm off to do something in another room far away from this one.
Murdoc: Smart girl.
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Fynsie: *purring* Start me up, Bass man....
Murdoc: What does this button do?
Fynsie: *sighing* Delicates...
Murdoc: Activating permanent press...
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Hell: *thinks* Oh, hey, I think I forgot to
-HONK-
Murdoc: GAH!
Fynsie: Ouch!
Hell: to turn the 'finished cycle' alarm off. Oh well.
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Fynsie: Mmmmmm.... Murdoc?
Murdoc: *concentrating* Mmm?
Fynsie: *blissing out* I think.... this cycle is about to.... oooh, finish.... If you're going to....ohhhhh.... join in, now's the time....
Murdoc: *increasing the pace* That's OK, love, I'll wait until the delicates are done. I got another load ready to go.
Fynsie: *losing it*
Murdoc: *loving it* Heh heh heh
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Hell: *angrily folding towels and stocking shelves* I never get to bask in the damn afterglow, not even once, it's just whang, bang, and go do the damn dishes- I freakin' swear one of these days I'm gonna just totally freaking lose it and I'll- *trips over Murdoc's boots in her tirade, eye twitches* AUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!
Fynsie&Murdoc: *echo about the same*
Hell: *sniffs, wibbles* I got an owie...
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Murdoc: *raising eyes to ceiling* She makes more noise than I do, but you're still the winner in that regard, love.
Fynsie: *basking* Bass man, you are a V8 in a world full of tricycles.
Murdoc: I know you can't resist my donk. [link]
Fynsie: It's the stroke of the bore that gets me.
Murdoc: I love it when you get all technical.
Fynsie: *adjusting clothing* Well, better go and see what Hell's done to herself now.
Murdoc: Mmmmmmmmmmm.... she might ask you to join in...
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Hell: *has fallen into a pile of Murdoc's footwear, crawls away scraped in several places* I knew I NEVER should have sharpened these buckles! The next time he tells me to put an edge on something, it's going straight into the sewers! *stares at the long scrape on her arm* Ohhhhh. I look like I attempted sucide on a moving bus. *curls into a ball*
Fynsie: *finds me, pokes me* Hell? You dead?
Hell: *petulant/bitchy* Yeah. I am. What's it to you, anyway?
Fynsie: *no-nonsense* You promised me your Jeep.
Hell: *growl-whines, curls up tighter*
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Fynsie: *soothing* Come on, Hell, let's get you out of here. I think you need a bit of first aid.
Hell: *grumbling* I need a bit of first SOMETHING. *mutters under breath* Never get what I want. Have to freaking BEG for it... never been so embarrassed in all my life.
Fynsie: It's all in the delivery, Hell. It's not that hard.
Murdoc: *appearing in doorway* Not what either of you said half an hour ago.
Hell: *sniffing and glaring at him* You don't care. I don't know why I bother.
Fynsie: *worried* Whoa, Hell, don't be like that-
Hell: *bottom lip wobbling* Like what? SECOND FAVOURITE???
Murdoc: Right, now that's total rubbish. I don't play favourites. I don't care who's cooking my breakfast.
Hell: *wailing* SEE!?
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Murdoc: *sighs, waves at you* You. You deal with this.
Hell: *screams at his retreating back* I'm not a "this" I'm a PERSON, DAMMIT! WALKING EMPTY HEADED SHIT-STAIN!
Fynsie: Whoa.
Hell: *kicking through the boots* I didn't! -unintelligible- and I'm not gonna just be treated like a stupid...fuck...servant!
Fynsie: Um...
Hell: *screeching* HE CAN JUST STUPID ROT! THIS WHOLE PLACE... CAN JUST BURN!
Fynsie: You don't mean-
Hell: And all the powers of HELL can just TAKE EVERYTHING HERE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PIT!
Fynsie: I'm...gonna go make some tea. *backs out*
Hell: *throwing things, totally not listening*
Fynsie: *smacks Murdoc* What did you do to her?
Murdoc: Oh good, you're here. Help me turn this valve...
Fynsie: This is serious Murdoc, I think-
Murdoc: Less talking, more turning!
Fynsie: *rolls eyes, helps*
Murdoc: There! *smirks* That should take care of her little tantrum.
Fynsie: What should?
Murdoc: The gaseous form of 2D's medication that I'm pumping through the rest of the house.
Fynsie:
Murdoc: *genuinely puzzled* What?
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Murdoc: Give it a while till the air clears. If you go in there now, you'll be flat on your back in no time.
Fynsie: And since when did you think that's a bad thing?
- Ten woozy minutes later -
Fynsie: Hell? You OK?
Hell: *lying on floor mumbling* Comfy. So comfy...whassat?
Fynsie: What are you doing down there?
Hell: Hmm? *glassy eyed* Can't remember....
Fynsie: Come on, up you get. *hoists wobbly Hell to her feet* I think you should be in bed.
Hell: *giggling* 'S 'at you, Mudsy?
Fynsie: No, I'll have to disappoint you on that score.
Hell: *sighs* Why's he so mean to me?
Fynsie: He doesn't mean to be, he's just not very patient sometimes.
Hell: *muttering* Patient my arse. Always wants me to play nurse. Makes me call him Dr Niccals....pfft! *sighs again*
Fynsie: Could be worse, Hell.
Hell: *smiles* I love it when he takes my temperature though...
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Murdoc: *strolls in* I'll take it from here, love. *scoops me up* Hello, kitten.
Hell: *giggles woozily* S'nap time.
Murdoc: Yes.
Hell: I's was bleeding.
Murdoc: Mmm.
Hell: *plonks her head on his shoulder* You're so cool...
Murdoc: *mutters* And you're so heavy...Down we go.
Hell: *clutches his face* When I grow up, I'mna be just like you. Only pretty.
Murdoc: Right...
Hell: And black.
Murdoc: Naturally.
Hell: And I don' have a dick...yet...
Murdoc: Alright, that's one for the men in white then.
Hell: *pulls him in, whispers at his ear* Thanksh for toleratin' me, Mudsoc. I luv ya fors it.
Murdoc: *disengages* Yeah, yeah, alright. Can't have this moment get too sappy. I've got an image to maintain. *pats me* Sleep it off, pet.
Hell: Live from Noo York, isssadderday night...
Murdoc: *closes my door, runs smack into you* Ack!
Fynsie: Awwwww.
Murdoc: You know moments like this are why I can't be too nice to her in the first place. Now I have to set one of her tops on fire again...
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Fynsie: *melting* You ARE cute. I knew you had it in you.
Murdoc: *growling* Keep that up and you won't.
Fynsie: Why so image conscious, Murdoc? Chicks love a guy who is sensitive and caring.
Murdoc: Not happening.
Fynsie: And then there are the chicks who just really get off on your look, your music, your image...
Murdoc: And my cock.
Fynsie: You have such a way with words. I really should engage you in this sort of conversation more often.
Murdoc: Impossible. Every time we start on this subject you end up with your mouth full.
Fynsie: Gotta get a feel for the art, Bass man.
Murdoc: Satan help me, you are getting a feel for it right now, isn't that enough?
Fynsie: I believe 'copping a feel' is the correct term....
Murdoc: What do I have to do to keep you satisfied, you demoness?
Fynsie: *pouncing* Keep breathing. And let me have my head.
Murdoc: You are so cute when you say that
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_-I'm sleeping in both of these, haha. Just like real life! 
A few hours later-
Hell: *wakes up* Unh...my vision's tinted purple, and I'm stuck to the sheets with dried blood. I guess the good thing about this situation is that I know for sure who if notwhy. *wanders into the kitchen* Tea time...*hums El Tango del Roxanne*
Fynsie: I hear music, bass man.
Murdoc: Still? That's a personal best for me...
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Fynsie: *listening* Red light? Ahh, OK. Roxanne.
Murdoc: *listening* I hear the sound of breakfast being made.
Fynsie: Your hearing is astronomical
Murdoc: *getting dressed* It's a seventh sense, really. Food that I don't have to cook magically appears on my radar the instant it's ready.
Fynsie: Don't you mean 'sixth sense'?
Murdoc: No. Seventh. Like the way you know if anyone even LOOKS at the Coupe.
Fynsie: Hmm, OK, yeah.
- Murdoc and Fyns wander into the kitchen -
Fynsie: Hell, my goodness, go and get cleaned up, you look like you've been dragged backwards through a barbed wire fence!
Hell: *still partially zonked* You want some tea?
Fynsie: *looking* Er, maybe later. Should it be that lumpy?
Hell: *not caring* So? You might have to chew it.
Murdoc: Pass. Think I'll stick with whatever you're having Couper.
Fynsie: *sighing and heading for the fridge* OK, you two sit down, I'll rustle up something to eat.
Hell: *plonked next to Murdoc* Why you so mean to me?
Murdoc: Gotta be cruel to be kind, pet.
Hell: *sagging already* All I want is some quality time...
Murdoc: Love, quality is one thing, quantity is another. You can't have your cake and eat it too.
Hell: *looking owlishly at Fyns* She eats it all the time.
Murdoc: She's on a special diet.
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Hell: *sags onto Murdoc's shoulder* Mmmm...cream based?
Murdoc: *rumbles* Exxxxxxxactly.
Hell: *crawls into his lap* I love when you make that sound. *rests her head on his chest* You sound like a yummy cement mixer.
Fynsie: Speaking of cement- *holds the tea cup upside down* -what is in this?
Hell: I mixed some butter, lard, flour, and the rest of the sugar cubes together.
Fynsie: And the purple bits?
Hell: Blueberries.
Fynsie: *looks at Murdoc* How much of that stuff did you gas her with? Eh. Might as well make the best of it. *sprays down a pan, scrapes out the cups* Pancakes it is.
Hell: *chews on Murdoc's neck*
Murdoc: *rumbles more*
Fynsie: So nice to see her incorporating greens into her diet.
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Murdoc: Mmmmmmmm, lower.
Hell: *giggling* Make that sound again!
Murdoc: Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, llllllllllllllllllower
Hell: *goes lower* You are so yummy when you do that.
Murdoc: Lllllllllllllllllower.
Hell: *goes lower, stops talking* Mmmmmmmm
Murdoc: Yummy, eh? *eyes cross*
Fynsie: Mind you don't spoil your appetite, Hell. And Bass man?
Murdoc: *lost in the moment* Mmm?
Fynsie: *politely ignoring the show* Pancakes in ten. And save room for dessert.
Murdoc: *incoherent gurgling sounds then short silence* Dessert?
Fynsie: Yep. I'll be serving you personally.
Hell: *brightly popping up* Can we eat now?
Murdoc: *recovering* She never stops.....
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Hell: *promptly trips over a "rough patch of air"* Ooof!
Fynsie: Careful Hell, that's what started all this...
Hell: Yeah, I know right? Can you pass me out a wet dishrag please?
Fynsie: *comes out with one* Bleeding again?
Hell: No...I just fell...with my mouth full. *avoids your eyes*
Fynsie: No shame in that.
Murdoc: Yes there is. The only birds worth anything are the swallows.
Hell: *snootily* I guess I never could hold my liquor.
Murdoc: *fishing a bottle of vodka out of the couch* What are you trying to say here exactly?
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Fynsie: Hell's trying to be polite, Bass man...
Hell: No, I was trying not to choke
Murdoc: Sorry love. Bit more pressure in the mornings.
Fynsie: You seem to be back to your old self, Hell
Hell: What happened anyway? Last thing I remember was YOU *pointing at Murdoc*
Murdoc: *grinning* I hear that a lot.
Fynsie: You were a little wound up, Hell.
Murdoc: Any tighter and you'd've collapsed into a black hole
Hell: Much as you just have.
***** "sorry" in advance if this is too awful ******* forgive me
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Murdoc: What's the ETA on those flapjacks then, Coupes?
Fynsie: Plating as we speak.
Hell: *zooms to her spot at the table*
Murdoc: *ambles over* Think you broke the sound barrier there.
Hell: Maybe, heh. *sheepish grin*
Fynsie: *serves and sits* You've loosened up. Glad to have you back.
Murdoc: *mouth too full to make a pun*
Hell: Yup...wait, where was I?
Fynsie: *looks at Murdoc, half-kidding* You keep this gas thing up and you're gonna have another 2D on your hands.
Murdoc: *almost chokes* Hell!
Hell: Sir?
Murdoc: Today we're going dogging-er, fishing! Fishing.
Hell: We...are?
Murdoc: Yes. I'll need a freshly caught fish for one of my nnnnnnnnefarious concoctions.
Hell: I'm...well...I mean that's great, but you've never taken me before. *slightly suspicious*
Murdoc: It occurs to me that we haven't spent a lot of quality time together. *thinks of two 2Ds, shudders* Ounce of prevention...*swigs his breakfast vodka*
********No apologies needed! I thought it was funny and on point. But you're sweet to have checked. 
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