GORILLAZ FANFIC SERIES(!!) (Part 1)


PART ONE

1993, a highway somewhere in Tokyo…

Six P.M. It was getting dark, too early, as far as the man behind the wheel of the big red semi-truck, cruising along at 80 miles an hour, was concerned. He still had more deliveries to make, not as annoying as the time he caught a coworker smuggling on the Fed Ex plane, but anyway, that’s just how it goes sometimes. He was humming along to his Madonna CD in the car. Sexy thing, she was to him. He sighed, regretting his own girlfriend leaving him. She was good in bed, too. The man hummed along to “Vogue” as, suddenly, out of nowhere, a helicopter started falling from the sky, spinning, spinning out of control. It wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen all week, after all, just days earlier, he had had to deliver two mysterious eels in a tank to a Murdoc Niccals in London, who seemed to be very amused about the matter. But anyway, that wasn’t important, now, as the man desperately tried to get over, brakes squealing against the impending helicopter Armageddon, pulling to the left as hard as he could without tipping.
            Miraculously, sweating, he managed to get the monstrous semi to a stop, as he stepped out, wiping his brow. He was a strange fellow, and getting tired of all the delivery. The helicopter had narrowly avoided him, as he examined the burning wreckage. He kicked down the door, at first to find only the pilot, or the remains of, that is. He began humming again to himself. “That’s what the drugs will do to you,” he mumbled. Maybe it was a kamikaze pilot for one of those organizations. He couldn’t be bothered to check. Suddenly, he heard the voice of a small girl behind him, rattling off in Spanish.
            He turned around, quickly, confused, but intrigued to see another non-Japanese person here. He looked at her suspiciously. She looked about three, and was holding a horrifying stuffed blue rabbit that was staring blankly at him with pure malice. She didn’t look in the least bit phased about the crash, and she kept going on in Spanish.
            “Do you need help?” He asked hesitantly. She continued on. “I can’t understand you.”
            Suddenly, her eyes grew huge in awe of what she was seeing. The truck! Oh, the majestic red truck! She pointed at it, excitedly, jumping up and down, and (unfortunately) never letting go of the horrifying bunny. “Semi?” she asked.
            “What?”
            “Semi?” She pointed excitedly and jumped up again. “Semi?”
            “What’s your name?” He asked her.
            “Savannah, and the bunny is Cheese Stick.”
            Why was she suddenly speaking English? He was very confused but intrigued. “Cheese Stick?” He had never been good with children. She nodded proudly, like it was the best name in the world. “Semi?”
            “Yeah, sure.” He mumbled under his breath. Like he didn’t have a million other things to do before taking care of a small child, and her stuffed rabbit. But he did anyway.

1998, Tokyo Fed Ex office—

Eight-year-old Savannah peeked out from behind the counter. Was her father gone yet? She was wondering. Maybe then she could feed the cat. The secret cat she didn’t tell him about, because he might hit her if she did. That’s what he said anyway. No pets. She frowned as she heard a small voice from behind her.
            “Kon’ichiwa, watashi wa Kong Studios Essex, Shinbun kokoku, ni kaito shite imasu.”
            Savannah nodded. She knew Japanese, but she did a double take. Why would she want to be shipped? In a crate? She’d suffocate. And what about a newspaper ad?
            “Master Kyuto okutte kuremashita.”
            The girl emerged now, a small Japanese girl about Savannah’s age, holding a guitar.
            “Who are you?” asked Savannah in Japanese, “You look lost.”
            The girl nodded and pointed at a large box, still speaking Japanese. “The guitar too.”
            “What’s your name?” asked Savannah.
            “I don’t know…anymore? Who are you? Do I know you?”
            “No, you don’t know me, but I’m the Fed Ex packer’s daughter, he’s coming back, so you gotta hide! Quick!”
            The girl nodded and slipped back behind the counter.
            “Savannah, what are you doing on the floor?” The man was standing there, looking strangely at her.”
            “I was just sitting, Daddy.”
            “Get up, you’ll get dirty,” he said, picking up a box and carrying it into the next room.
            “The phone’s ringing, Daddy.” Said Savannah.
            The man cursed under his breath and went to the other room for the phone.
            “He’ll be there for a while, you can come out now,” Savannah whispered to the girl, “But keep it down.”
            The girl nodded. She still looked lost. “Kong Studios Essex.”
            “What?” Savannah was confused.
            The girl pointed at a photo of a newspaper clipping that she insisted that Mr. Kyuto had given her. It said, NME, advertisement. Essex band looking for guitarist! We’ll provide food and accommodations. Reply as soon as possible—M.N., 2-D, R.H.
            Savannah thought the ad was strange put she didn’t say anything.
            “Ocean bacon,” said the girl in English.
            “What?” asked Savannah.
            “Ocean bacon. Ocean bacon ocean bacon. Ocean BA-con. o-CEAN ba-CON.”         
            “You’re kinda weird.”
            [In Japanese] “Quick, in the box!”
            “Fine,” sighed Savannah.
            “Konichiwa.” She bowed as she backed into the large box.
            “I’m Savannah—” she said quickly.
            “Noodle.”
            “What?”
            “Noodle?”
            “Are you hungry? I hope you’ll be ok in there?”
            “Noodle!”       
            “Okay, Noodle,” said Savannah, rushing to close the box before her father came back. “Okay.”

2005—Kong Studios, Essex

I’m not sure if this is the right place. I mean, of course it does, it looks exactly like the picture she showed me in Pop’s Fed ex office back in Japan all those years ago. But maybe I misremembered. She might not have gotten the job. She might not be here anymore. But no, from everything I’ve heard she got the job. Sounds pretty successful to me. I even heard she was back in Japan at some point, but I didn’t have anyway out then. I shudder in the cold, remembering. Best not to think about that now. I look at the spooky property that seems to be in the middle of a run-down cemetery. I’ve always had a bit of a morbid curiosity about these things, but these days, there isn’t much I can do about it. I’m too much of a scardey-cat.  Always have been. I shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be this way. I try to brush off the feeling of foreboding. Maybe she’s changed. Maybe the fame got to her head. Maybe she’s just like any other girl her age, caught up in boys and clothes and makeup. But maybe she’s my last chance, now that I’m finally free.
            I ring the doorbell tentatively. I bet they don’t get many guests at this hour. Oh, God, what’s going to happen?
            I can almost feel an eerie white eye staring through a peephole in the door. Oh God. Is it a ghost?
            “Well, don’t wait around, Russ.” The voice is coming from inside, and it feels—wrong. Menacing. Like it wants to hunt me down. “Open the door!” It sounds like the voice is yelling now. “Open the door, or I’ll—”
            “What’s going on?” A new voice, this one willowy and quiet, with a hint of nervousness.
            “YOU! STAY OUT OF THIS!”
            “Calm down, man.” I hear the white-eyed figure speak now. “Just—”
            “Somebody should open the door?”
            “Not you, 2-D!”
            “Back OFF! I’m serious!” The door bursts open, and I see a scowling man with a greenish tinge to his skin staring down.
            I already don’t like him. Something just feels wrong.
            “Who’s there?”
            “R-right here.” Did I mention it’s cold? And pouring? “Does Noodle live here?”         
            “Who are you?”
            “At least invite her in, man, she’s cold.”
            “I-I’m fine.” I say teeth chattering. I don’t want the ghost, who appears to be a large Black man wearing a T-shirt that’s about two sizes too small. Maybe not so scary after all. The white eyes are making me uneasy still, though. I take a deep breath and walk inside. It’s gonna be ok. Maybe. Probably not. But one can hope.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

10 Important Life Lessons from Thor: Ragnarok (SPOILERS)

Image
THOR: RAGNAROK MAY BE A COMEDY AT HEART, BUT THERE IS DEFINITELY A LOT GOING FOR IT. LET'S GET STARTED.  #10--GREEN REALLY IS THE BEST COLOR. I mean, this is a bit of a stupid one to start with, but come on, who doesn't love a little green when going into battle. Hela proves that Loki made the right fashion statement.  #9--DRINKING WON'T SOLVE YOUR PROBLEMS. Sorry, Val, but the bottle won't ease the pain. You have to do that yourself. And, you don't wanna die, right?  #8--SOME PEOPLE ARE IRREDEEMABLE. Sorry to break it to you, but Hela is an evil being, sealed away for a time, because she couldn't be tamed. When she's released, she is unstoppable, the only way to stop her being to destroy her. Unfortunately, not everyone can be redeemed or saved, no matter how hard you try. They have to choose it for themselves.    #7--YOU AREN'T THE PROPERTY OF OTHERS. The Grandmaster, head of Sacaar, tries to "own" his citizens by giving them false s...
Read more

INFINITY WAR CHARACTERS THAT MIGHT MAKE ME CRY--PAST HISTORY OF MOVIE CRYING--

Disclaimers: No Infinity War Spoilers; I have not seen. Don't spoil to me till Sunday; I'm seeing it Saturday. Spoilers for other MCU films, Toy Story 3, Star Wars: TFA, and La La Land. You have been warned.  I don't cry during movies. I was once a young kid like everyone, and I may have cried in fear when I saw Toy Story 3's incinerator scene. I honestly don't remember. But I only remember honest-to-goodness crying during one movie. I wanted to cry during Inside Out. I wanted to cry during Rogue One. I wanted to cry during The Last Jedi. I wanted to cry during Wonder Woman. I wanted to cry during Black Panther. I really wanted to cry during both Guardians films. And I might have choked up over a few Loki and Kylo scenes before. But there was only one film I honest-to-goodness cried-so-hard-like-a-baby-and-it-was-embarrassing. And that was La La Land. The whole movie had me viciously fighting tears, and, if you know me and movies, I have a reputation for not cryin...
Read more

Loki and Ingrid 52--FINAL PART

Endings and Beginnings Five years later~ I’m sitting alone again in my room, pouring over ancient Midgardian volumes that Thor had found in school. All of the stories, the myths—so interesting, but they got it all wrong. I shake my head. Earth folk are stupid. Maybe. A younger me would say that teasingly, so coy. I might have had fun, once. I don’t remember now. It’s been too long, sitting in my silent corner, watching Thor, Korg, Miek, and even Lyd play games sometimes. She might enjoy Midgard more than anywhere else. She’s told me she likes it here, even after the snap.           Five years after, I still can’t believe that the inevitable happened. We lost—well, they lost. I didn’t do anything but sit by. I rested. I thought I would be better, but then…I heard everything that happened in Wakanda with Thor, and Thanos. Even Nebula. And Gamora. Half of all life, gone. Canute still sees me sometimes, so distant, he knows I’m too fa...
Read more